


It'll Be All Right

by MissFit



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Happy Ending, Other, POV Male Character, Romance, Starting Over
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-02-09 07:52:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 33,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18633946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissFit/pseuds/MissFit
Summary: When Jon experiences unbelievable heart break, he wonders if he will ever be happy.An encounter with a new tenant downstairs leads him to realize there is always hope for love.





	1. It'll Be All Right

**Author's Note:**

> I started this as a one-shot, but it appears I can't help myself. 
> 
> Sigh.

It'll Be All Right

 

“So, I was wondering what your thoughts were about adding a few more names to our mailing list? I know we decided to keep the wedding small, but there are a few professors I would like to invite to the ceremony.”

 Jon glanced over at Ygritte. She was staring out the passenger window and appeared to be deep in thought.

“I promise it won’t put be more than three people, and we don’t have to invite them to the luncheon after the ceremony if you are worried about money. I know we are playing for this ourselves, but it would mean a lot to me if they were there, especially Professor Seaworth. He helped me get into the program and I was his TA for two years during undergrad.”

Ygritte remained silent. Jon frowned, worried something was bothering her. They had just completed their finals, Ygritte’s graduation ceremony was in two days, and their wedding was scheduled for the end of the summer. To say they were both stressed would be an understatement.

Jon pulled into the parking lot that connected with the local beach. It was busier than usual on a Wednesday evening with various college students drinking and partying around huge bone fires. Jon grew up in the North, same as Ygritte, and he didn’t think he would ever forget what it felt like to see the ocean for the first time. It was breathtaking to see something so endless. While he missed the snow and mountains back home, Jon grew to love running along the shoreline and swimming in the salty water. Before his mother passed away, she would often tease how she hardly recognized him anymore with his sun kissed skin.

“Do you want to go for a walk?” Jon asked.

Ygritte sighed. She looked away from the window and into Jon’s eyes. “Jon.” She said slowly. “I don’t want to marry you.”

All the air left Jon’s body in one quick exhale. He opened his mouth, but found himself unable to form a single word, let alone an entire sentence. Jon loved Ygritte with all his heart. He wanted to make a life with her, raise a family with her. She had said she wanted the same, so how could Ygritte say she didn’t want those things after being with Jon for two years?

“I don’t love you, and to be honest I don’t think I ever did.”

Jon heard the words, but his heart had a hard time understanding them. If Ygritte never loved him, that meant their entire time together had been a lie. That couldn’t be true.

Could it?

“At first I thought your brooding was attractive and mysterious. I was sure it hid this deep, meaningful part of you that only those close to you got to see. I was wrong. You overthink and overanalyze everything. It is annoying and unattractive.”

Jon felt the walls of his car closing in on him.

“I don’t understand.” Tears pricked Jon’s eyes but he willed himself not to cry. “I love you. I love you with all my heart. You said you loved me. How can this be happening?” Jon stared at the ocean as its waves leapt onto the shore. “This isn’t happening.” He whispered hoarsely. “It _can’t_ be happening.”

Ygritte shrugged. As opposed to Jon, who felt like he was going to throw up at any moment, Ygritte looked coldly detached considering she was tearing his soul apart.

“I thought it would be nice to marry you. You are a stable guy and treat me well. I thought that would be enough, that you could make me happy, but I was wrong. You bore me. Where is the passion? The romance? The surprises? You don’t possess any of those qualities. You are passionate when it comes to sex, I will give you that, but I need more than just good sex. I need excitement. I don’t think you will ever be exciting.”

Ygritte slid her engagement ring of her finger and placed it in the cupholder between them. It was a silver band with a raised princess cut diamond resting in the center.  

“I am telling you this to help you Jon. Just… change who you are, and I think you can make a girl happy someday.” Ygritte opened the door and stepped outside. “I would prefer if we make a clean break of things. None of this, ‘let’s still be friends’ ridiculousness. You can come pick up your things at my apartment during my graduation ceremony. Good luck with everything.”

Jon watched in stunned silence as Ygritte shut the door and walked towards one of the groups at the beach. Mechanically, he turned the keys to the ignition. The car screeched angrily. Jon realized he never turned off the car’s ignition; Ygritte had never given him the chance.

Checking his rearview mirror, Jon shifted the gear into reverse and pulled out of the driveway.

He had no idea how he made it home.

XXXXX

“Holy fuck that was brutal.”

Pyp dramatically dropped his backpack onto the ground and kicked off his shoes. Unlike Jon, who tried to get all his finals done with as quickly as possible over the four-day allotted time period, Pyp tended to slack off. He played video games the first two days, studied on the third, and spent all of the fourth day taking them back to back.

Jon did not understand how Pyp wasn’t failing out of their master’s program.

Pyp turned the lights on to their apartment. “I swear if I am not drunk in the next ten minutes I am going to—AH!” Pyp’s hands clutched his chest as he finally noticed Jon’s presence on their lone living room couch. “What the fuck man?! I thought you were going out with Ygritte tonight?” His eyes narrowed the closer he got to Jon. “And why are you sitting here in the dark like some sort of creepy vampire? Did the stress of school finally get to you? You should have listened to me when I said you take the whole ‘grades are important’ thing way too seriously. What society needs is a more—”

From deep within his chest, Jon let out a huge sob, cutting off Pyp’s monologue about how grades are just an abstract concept created by society to make everyone feel like shit. Jon placed his head in his hands and let the tears he had been holding in for the past hour fall freely down his face.

“Hey, man, are you okay?” Pyp asked worriedly. He sat down next to Jon. “Did something happen?”

Jon didn’t say anything. He continued to cry as Ygritte’s words played in his head on an endless loop. He felt like he was less than nothing as he heard her tell him in her thick Northern accent that he was nothing.

“I won’t force you talk, but do you need anything?” Pyp asked after a few minutes. “I can call Ygritte, or—”

Jon shook his head. He wiped his tears with his sleeve and leaned back onto the couch. He stared up at the ceiling without really seeing it.

“Ygritte broke up with me.” Jon said in a hollow voice. “She said she never really loved me. She said I was simple and boring.” His traitorous tears continued to fall. “She said nobody would ever love me the way I am now.” Jon’s bottom lip wobbled. “I love her, but she doesn’t love me. After everything she said I still want to be with her and marry her. I want to wake up from this sick nightmare and find her sleeping next to me. Does that make stupid?”

Pyp stood up from the couch. He walked into their tiny kitchen and filled a glass with water. “I don’t think you are stupid.” Pyp said. He sat down next to Jon and placed the glass on the table. “I think Ygritte said some fucking awful things to make herself not feel bad for what she did to you. She could have been classy about it, but she was trashy instead and a bit of a bitch.”

Jon frowned. “Do you think…” He swallowed thickly, his mouth dry from crying. “Do you think I am unlovable?”

It was one of Jon’s deepest fears. He had grown up without a father, and while his mother had loved him enough for both parents, a small part of Jon had always feared that he wasn’t enough to keep his ad around. He barely had any friends growing up and was often teased for being poor. He never participated in sports or extracurricular activities because they couldn’t afford it. Instead, Jon worked to help pay the bills and save money for university. He started his own lawn care business, growing a steady clientele of neighbors whose gardens and lawns he took care of in the summer and shoveled in the winter. Going to a new school where nobody knew him had been a big reason why he applied to Iron Islands University; none of his school mates were applying there, and he could leave their teasing and judgmental stares behind. During those first few years of undergrad Jon was able to discover himself; he learned to like who he was and to not rely on the opinions of others to form his own opinions of himself.

Ygritte had ruined everything in just a few short minutes and with a few blunt words.

Pyp grabbed Jon by both his shoulders. He gently forced Jon to look at him.

“Jon Snow, you listen to me. You are not unlovable.” Pyp’s brown eyes bore into his own. “You _aren’t_. One of these days, most definitely not tomorrow, but one day you are going to find a beautiful girl that loves you and wants you and finds everything about you wonderfully perfect. What Ygritte said to you cannot and will not stop that from happening.” Pyp released Jon and picked up the glass of water. “I know everything feels like shit right now, and quite honestly it will for a while, but it’ll be all right. I promise.”

Jon took a small sip of water. He moved the glass back and forth between his hands.

“I hope so.” He whispered. “I really hope so.”

XXXXX

Jon stared at himself in the mirror. There were dark smudges under his eyes from lack of sleep and his face was puffy from crying off-and-on for the past two days.  

A piece of bright yellow caught his attention. He reached up and pulled one of Pyp’s sticky notes that he used for studying off the top corner of the mirror. Well, technically they were Jon’s sticky notes; Pyp always stole them.

_Jon,_

_I’ll pick up your things from Ygritte’s. Stay home and rest._

_-Pyp_

_P.S. Don’t forget to look at yourself in the mirror and remind yourself how fucking awesome you are. And before you ask, yes, my therapist father made me do that while I was going through puberty. It was awkward as fuck._

Jon’s lips twitched into the barest of smiles. Pyp came from a huge family. His father was a therapist and his mother a surgeon. He always joked that he was a bit of a disappointment to them for what wanting to be an architect, but Jon knew that was far from the truth. His parents and his five sisters were always video chatting with him and flying to Harlaw where the IIU was located for visits.

Jon looked into the mirror once more. All he could see was his imperfections. He was short, his hair curly and unruly, and his lips fuller than was considered attractive for most men.

He was also broody, boring, and unlovable.

Jon face began to crumble.

“Ygritte was—”

Jon cut himself off before he could finish his sentence.

He closed his eyes.

“I am a good person.” He whispered hoarsely. “I am a good person and good things will happen in my life.”

Jon took a deep breath in before expelling all the air from his lungs.

He opened his eyes.

“Ygritte wasn’t right. She _wasn’t_.” He said with more conviction that he currently felt. “I am Jon Snow, and I am not broody, boring, or unlovable. I think through my decisions, it’s okay to not like going to parties or clubs, and I love who I am.” Jon’s lips twitched as he thought about Pyp’s note. “I am fucking awesome.”

Jon searched his reflection in the mirror. He forced himself to stand up a bit straighter.

“Someday, I will find someone who loves me.”

Jon felt a small spark of hope beginning to swell in his chest. He truthfully only felt a little better, and he knew it would take time to heal from Ygritte, but for the first time since she called off their engagement, he felt like moving on was possible.


	2. A Door Opens

A Door Opens

 

“Hold the door!”

Jon tripped over his feet. He was halfway through the doorway and the shouted command had caused him to lose his balance. He readjusted the straps on the messenger bag to prevent it, and all the books inside, from falling off his shoulder. Both Jon and Pyp had gone to the bookstore that morning to pick up the necessary supplies for the new semester. They had split up once they were done, with Pyp heading back to their apartment to most likely play video games while Jon had gone to meet with the undergrad student chosen to be his TA.

“Thanks.” A feminine voice said next to him.

Jon mentally commanded himself to not open his mouth in shock as his eyes took in the girl before him. Her long auburn hair was pulled back into a high pony tail and her blue eyes sparkled with gratitude. Her cheeks were flushed a pleasant pink and she was slightly out of breath, most likely from pushing the young man in the wheelchair up the building’s ramp.

Jon cleared his throat when he realized she was waiting for a reply and he had taken a beat too long. He moved out of the way so she could push the young man, whose arms were full of boxes, through the door.

“Do you need help or anything?”

She smiled at him, and Jon swore his heart stopped beating at the sight. Her elegant and defined cheekbones raised slightly, causing her round eyes to turn into small half-moons. “That would be wonderful. We ferried my car here and it packed to the brim with boxes.” She gestured to herself and the young man in the wheelchair. “My name is Sansa Stark, and this is my brother Bran. We are moving in to one of the apartments downstairs.”

“Jon Snow.” He said, tilting his head to the side. It wasn’t often he heard an accent like his own. “Are you from the North?”

Sansa nodded. “Winterfell.” She stopped in front of a door marked 1C and put a single key into the lock. “My brother Bran got a full scholarship to IIU. Our sister Arya was supposed to help us move, but she is in the military, and her leave was revoked for some sort of training exercise.”

“It’s a good building, right?” Bran asked as Sansa fiddled with the lock. “Sansa must had read thousands of reviews before choosing this place. If it turns out to be less than perfect I will never hear the end of it.”

“If it had been up to you, we would have chosen the very first listing without knowing what the complex looked like of where it was in relation to campus. Be grateful I took those things into consideration.” She turned the lock of opened the door.

Sansa quickly stepped inside to turn on the lights before turning back around to wheel Bran inside. His wheelchair was simple one with a ring on the outside of the wheels to allow him to push himself, but the sheer number of boxes in his arms made the action impossible. Sansa lifted the boxes out of his arms and placed them on the floor.

“Why don’t I start unpacking these Sans while you and Jon finish getting everything out of the car?” Bran suggested.

“Actually, can you wait about five minutes?” Jon asked. “My roommate Pyp and I live two floors up. I doubt he is doing anything. Let me go grab him, and then I can meet you at the entrance to the building?”

Both Sansa and Bran agreed to his proposal. With a small smile—Jon tried his best not to blush at Sansa’s continued expressions of gratitude—Jon forced himself to walk as slowly and calmly up the stairs as possible.

“Pyp!” Jon yelled once he shut the door to their apartment and realized Pyp was not in front of the television playing video games. “Where the fuck are you?! I’ve got a situation here and I need back up.”

“In the kitchen!”

Jon practically ran the few short steps to their kitchen, his eyes quickly scanning the space. Pyp was hunched over their tiny dining room table. It had been their very first purchase for the apartment along with the four mismatched chair surrounding it. Jon had been willing to pay the thrift store the full asking price, but Pyp had somehow managed to talk them down to half of what they were asking for.

“Can you believe how much IIU is charging for books this year? It’s fucking highway robbery.” Pyp declared as he scanned over a receipt. He threw his hands down onto the table. “That’s it! I am going to protest. Something loud and brash to show Director Greyjoy what a fucking joke these prices are. Maybe I will dress up as the school mascot except be decapitated to illustrate—"

“Pyp!” Jon yelled, exasperated. “I met a girl!”

Pyp slowly turned his head, all thoughts of protest quickly replaced. A mischievous smile crept onto his face. “Oh, you did, do you?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I did.” Jon confirmed.

It had been two years since Ygritte, and Jon had only gone out on a few dates since then. In the beginning he had done it to see if he could handle being on a date with someone without fear of cruelty or rejection. The girls Jon went out with were sweet and seemed to genuinely enjoy his company. Jon found himself slowly but steadily gaining his confidence back with each successful outing.  However, no girl ever made it past date number two, not because Jon feared commitment, but because he simply hadn’t met someone that made him want to become exclusive.

Sansa, though… Sansa felt different. He knew he just met her, but Jon could already tell there was something special about her. He had a suspicion that her inner beauty, the one hidden away from outside eyes, would be even more beautiful than what the world saw on the outside.

Jon smiled inwardly to himself. Maybe he was a bit of a romantic after all. Perhaps not when it came to candle light dinners and petal covered floors, but maybe with the way he felt love.

Couldn’t it also be considered romantic to only want to devote your life to one person for the rest of your life?  

“Her and her brother are moving into an apartment downstairs and I told them you and I would help them move.” Jon explained in a rush. He didn’t want to be late to helping Sansa and Bran when he was still in the process of making a first impression.

Pyp suddenly became less interested in Jon’s love life. “Pass.” He scoffed. “You might be willing to skip the sex, hand holding, dating, and making out phases of a relationship and go straight to helping her move but I have no such desire. Besides, I’m busy.”

Jon rolled his eyes, wondering if Pyp really thought relationships progressed in that order. “You are literally sitting at a table scowling at a receipt. You have nothing to do.”

“False.” Pyp declared with a raised fist. “I have a mascot costume to steal and a head to drench in pig’s blood that I may or may not nick from the biology department. Oh, and maybe make a poster with a shit load of profanities.” Pyp stood up form the table and walked out of the kitchen. “Do you think they keep the mascot behind a glass case like in superhero movies or just shove it in a storage closet?”

Jon followed Pyp towards his bedroom. “Can’t you please help me just this once? I could really use a wingman.” He begged. He pulled his hair into a manbun in agitation. “You know I am shit at talking sometimes.”

“Most of the time.” Pyp opened his closet. “Besides, I help you out all the time.” He pointed out. Pyp ignored the dirty clothes that came tumbling out of his closet and began to search among the pile for his shoes. “I go to Olmypic Weightlifting class with you three times a week because you felt like it would be good for your self esteem even though the mere mention of physically exerting myself makes me want to take a nap. Do you have any idea how mentally exhausting the snatch is? I can’t study when I am done with it.”

“You’re welcome for helping you achieve something other than toothpicks for arms and legs, and you never study regardless of what lift we do in class.” Jon said dryly. “If you help me, I will owe you a favor. Anything you want, I swear.”

Pyp picked up his shoes. “Really?” He said slowly and with a glint in his eye that almost made Jon regret his offer. “Deal.” He said quickly before Jon could rescind. “I want you to help me steal the school mascot and protest book prices with me.”

Jon let out an annoyed huff. He should have seen that one coming from a mile away. “Fine.” He grumbled. “But only because I just spent four hundred dragons on books myself and I am also pretty pissed about it.”

Pyp patted him on the shoulder with sympathy. “Don’t worry, Jon. Well make those fuckers pay and get you the girl.” He slipped on his shoes and walked towards their front door. “It’s a win-win.”

XXXXX

Jon lifted the last of the boxes out of the trunk of Sansa’s car. He mentally chastised himself for once more checking out Sansa’s legs and ass in her tiny cotton shorts as he followed her into the building. She was an inch or so taller than him and had some of the most attractive legs he had ever seen.

“Thank you again so much for your help. I really appreciate it.” Sansa said over her shoulder. “I thought it would take us at least an hour or so, but thanks to you and Pyp we got it done in thirty minutes.”

“It wasn’t a problem, really.” Jon said.

While Sansa hadn’t been lying about her car being packed to the brim, the car itself was compact, and they were able to move back froth from her car to the apartment pretty quickly.

“Still, I’m sure you had better things to do on a Saturday afternoon than helping us.”

Jon winced. He did have a mascot to steal—possibly also pig’s blood though he was hoping to talk Pyp out of that one—and a profanity-laden sign to make, but he didn’t think he should share that with Sansa.

“Not really.” He said, figuring it wasn’t really a lie since Pyp’s ridiculous desire to protest the school could hardly be deemed as something better to do with his time. “I am in my last year of grad school at IIU for Architecture. The semester doesn’t start until Tuesday. While I should prepare my syllabus for the lower level class I am teaching, I can always work on it this evening.”

“You teach at IIU?” Bran asked, having heard the last part of their conversation when Sansa and Jon walked into the apartment.

“Brace yourself, Bran, because not only does Jon teach there, but so do I.” Pyp declared. “We are both getting out Masters of Architecture, and just so happen to be the smartest ones in our group. Naturally the university saw fit to choose us for the two teaching positions offered to graduate students. Though I must say poor Jon got the short end of the stick. Intro to Architecture is boring as shit. I basically slept through the whole class.”

“What do you teach?” Bran asked.

“The History of Architecture During the Targaryen Dynasty.” Pyp answered. “Some idiots, I mean _historians_ , believe the rose windows on Dragonstone Castle are filled with dragon glass made by actual dragons, because, you know, dragons existed back in the day. It’s total fantasy bullshit but at least makes for some fun theorizing.”

“Didn’t some archeologists recently find what they believed to be dragon bones just outside of Kings Landing? Maybe their theory isn’t too far off.” Bran countered.

Sansa smiled fondly at Bran as he and Pyp began a surprisingly in-depth discussion about the possibility of dragons once existing in Westeros before moving in to the kitchen. Jon followed her. While on any other day the nerd in him would have loved to be apart of Pyp and Bran’s conversation, he found himself wanting to spend more time with Sansa.

“Are you planning on going to IIU as well?” Jon asked as he opened a box marked plates. He opened the cupboard Sansa pointed to and began to place them inside. They were expensive looking with an intricate golden direwolf painted in the center. “Or did you already graduate?”

A look of sadness flitted over Sansa’s face. “No.” She shook her head briefly to erase the clouds in her eyes. “I went to KLU for a semester but came home to take care of Bran and our sister Arya. That was five years ago. I suppose one day I will go back and get a degree but for now I need to focus on work taking care of Bran. He is pretty independent, but this is his first time living away from home, and I want to make sure he is okay before I make any decisions.”

Jon frowned. He noticed earlier when asking to help her move Sansa never once mentioned parents, and her not mentioning them again made him wonder what had happened to make them not be a part of her life anymore. He wanted to say something to make her smile return and racked his brain for some sort of idea.

“Do you like flowers?” He blurted out rather quickly.

The corners of Sansa’s mouth turned up slightly. It felt like he was on to something, so Jon hurried to continue.

“The botany school has created some lovely gardens right in the middle of campus. The roses are all in bloom right now. If you like I can show you—”

A sharp knock on the door interrupted Jon’s attempts at both making her smile and kind of, sort of, asking her out on a date.

“Your savior has arrived!” A male voice called out from the living room. “I bring pizza, beer, and a soda for Bran because I know Sansa would kick my ass if I let him drink alcohol.”

A huge smile spread across Sansa’s face. She walked around Jon and into the living room. He followed behind her, just in time to see her arms circling around an admittedly decent looking guy.

Jon only mildly hated himself for analyzing everything about their hug in an effort to determine whether it was more an action between friends or two people who were something more. One quick glance at Pyp let Jon know his room mate was also doing the same. However, unlike Jon, who would agonize for hours on how to bring it up in a way that didn’t sound like he was fishing for information, Pyp would blurt out anything to get the necessary information without waiting for the proper time to do so.

“Hello, Theon.” Sansa said warmly. She gave him a quick peck on the cheek that caused Jon to wilt just a little. “I’m afraid you are a bit late to be considered our savior. We just finished unloading all the boxes, but we will definitely eat the pizza.”

“What makes you think I came late?” Theon said with a wink.

“Smart guy.” Pyp muttered under his breath.

Jon suspected he would be hearing about sore moving muscles for the next week.

Theon walked over to Bran and ruffled his hair. “And how is my favorite Stark?”

“Arya is doing well.” Bran said with a smile.

“Perfect! And what about you?”

“Tired, but mostly good.”

Sansa’s smile was quickly replaced by a frown. “Do you need to take a nap? We won’t be able to go furniture shopping until tomorrow but I could—”

“I’m fine, Sansa, really.” Bran replied. “I promise if I am tired I will put myself down for a nap, okay?”

“Okay.” Sansa said slowly. She took in a deep breath to steady her sudden oncoming of nerves. “Okay.” She repeated with a bit more conviction. “I’m sorry Bran, I just worry. It seems I can’t help it.”

Bran rolled himself over to his sister. He took her hand and gently tugged her down towards his eye level before enveloping her into a hug. “It’s okay. I love you too, sis.”

Theon threw himself into the hug. “Starklings for the win!” He declared with equal parts affection and enthusiasm.

The group disentangled themselves as Sansa discreetly wiped her eyes. “Theon, these are our neighbors Jon and Pyp.” She said with a slight sniffle. “They were kind enough to help us move. Jon, Pyp, this is Theon Greyjoy.”

“Greyjoy?” Pyp said with a quirked brow. “Are you by chance related to President Balon Greyjoy at IIU?”

Theon’s face pinched in distaste. “In name only. My dad is a total asshole. Sansa’s family fostered me when I was a kid and he threw me out of the house. He tried to patch things up with me once the app I created became I huge success, but I haven’t been as quick at reconciliation when the only reason he wants to is because I now have a shitload of money.”

“What app did you create?” Jon asked. He felt like a bit of a caveman for liking that Sansa and Theon were no longer standing so close together once their greetings were over, but he didn’t mind the hope that came from the observation.

“Sweetling.” Theon said with a large smile.

Pyp coughed in shock. “You created Sweetling? The dating app where people either swipe right or left depending on a person’s picture?”

Theon’s grin grew impossibly wider. “Great idea, isn’t it?”

Pyp crossed his arms over his chest. “I got ghosted on that app you know. How can you possibly think judging people based purely on their looks is—”

“Pyp, Jon, I really can’t thank you both enough for helping us.” Sansa said quickly to diffuse any possibility of an argument between Pyp and Theon. “Would you like to stay for some pizza? Theon brought more than enough. Right, Theon?” Her tone suggested that even if he hadn’t, Theon had no choice but to agree.

Theon held up the pizza he was still balancing in one hand. “Two boxes.” He confirmed, unphased by the glare Pyp was sending his way. “And there is more than enough beer.”

Jon sighed internally. He wanted to stay, but Pyp was basically useless to him now as a wingman with his continued glaring towards Theon, and Jon would never be able to focus on conversation while he analyzed every interaction between Sansa and Theon. He didn’t want to count out his chances with her, but he needed to regroup.

“Thanks, but we need to get going.” Jon said.

Sansa’s face fell. It was minute, but it was there, and it gave Jon a bit of courage.

“Maybe another time, though?” Jon offered. “Pyp and I would love to have you over for dinner. It will be our way of welcoming you to the neighborhood, and we can share some of our survival types for making it out of IIU with your sanity.”

A light blush crept onto Sansa’s cheeks.

It looked lovely.

Jon bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself for telling her so.

“That would be great!” Bran said enthusiastically.

Jon raised his eyebrows at Sansa.

She gave him a tiny smile.

“I agree.” She said a bit shyly. “Why don’t we plan on something once the first week of school is over?”

Jon smiled. After months of not smiling, he never took the action for granted when it happened. It was one of his full ones, where his eyes crinkled, and his lips turned down slightly instead of going up.

“It’s a date.”  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun (?) fact: the snatch really is mentally exhausting! It is my least favorite of the Olympic lifts because it is impossible to muscle through it, but I appreciate the challenge is represents. 
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading! 
> 
> Have a great day!


	3. Chocolate Chip Cookie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because this story was originally planned as a one-shot, it is actually done and going through the editing process. I decided I like it better as a short multi-chapter story instead because I felt like the flow wasn't very good as a one shot I originally planned to post this chapter with the section that follows it, but decided against it after editing, because I liked the way this section ended. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Chocolate Chip Cookie

 

Jon willed himself not to bang his head against the bannister as he walked up the stairs from the first level of IIU’s Museum of Art. While much of the floor was separated into different galleries, there was also office spaces for the janitors, security officers, and curators who were employed by the museum, a vault that housed paintings, photography, and sculpture exhibits not currently being shown, and a one hundred and fifty seat auditorium used for special guest lecturers and a few of the University’s larger classes. Intro to Architecture was one such class. While Jon liked the MoA and didn’t mind lecturing there, he did mind the building was located on the opposite side of campus from Urragon Tower where his major was housed.

“Sorry again for being late.” He said for what felt like the hundredth time. “I swear it won’t happen again. I was doing some research for my thesis and lost track of time.”

“You were hardly late, Jon.” His TA, Arianne Martell said. She was in her senior year, but unlike Jon had no interest in going to grad school. “You were five minutes early.”

“Yes, but I like to be in at least ten minutes early, if not more. I don’t want the freshman to think they can’t come to me with any questions. I am here to help them, not terrify them.”

“Ninety-nine percent of the students in your class are only taking it because it’s a lower level requirement. I don’t think they care it you start the class ten minutes late as long as you keep the work load light and make the tests easy.” Arianne pointed out. She snickered as she reread the syllabus Jon had spent the entire fifty-minute class going over. “The look on those poor souls faces when they realized the class would be far from an easy was priceless. Pyp showed me his syllabus this morning. At least he takes it a bit easier on his students.”

“That’s because Pyp is a lazy ass who doesn’t want to spend his time grading papers.”

“He could always have his TA do it.”

Jon snorted. “Pyp also thinks the TA assigned to him is a tool used by Dr. Seaworth to spy on him.”

Arianne rolled her eyes. “I don’t think Pyp is very bright.”

“Nobody does.” Jon deadpanned.

He waved to Arianne at the top of the stairs as she headed back to Urragon Tower for her office hours. Jon’s stomach rumbled, reminding him that he had not packed himself a lunch before heading out the door. The first day of school always stressed him out. While he didn’t have any classes himself on Tuesday’s, he did teach, and he always slept poorly before teaching a class for the first time. While Arianne was right about the majority of the students in his class not giving a damn, Jon didn’t want to bore the few who actually wanted to learn and were thinking about majoring in architecture. He wanted to inspire them, not put them to sleep.

“Jon?” A feminine voice with a sweet-sounding Northern accent called out. “It that you?”

Jon tripped over his feet. He mentally cursed himself, wondering if he would ever not loose his balance whenever Sansa Stark called out to him. When he turned to look at her, taking in the shining red hair that hung down her back and clear blue eyes, Jon realized that would never happen.

“Hello, Sansa.” He said. He fought to keep a blush from covering his cheeks. She was sitting behind the visitor’s desk and wearing a black nametag with her name written in gold lettering and a sleeveless emerald green blouse with tiny buttons down the front. “Do you work here?”

“I do.” Sansa replied. “I started yesterday. I thought it would take me longer to find a job, but I got lucky. It was the first one I interviewed for.”

Jon opened his mouth to congratulate her, but a low rumble interrupted him. Jon placed an embarrassed hand over his stomach. “Sorry.” He mumbled, no longer able to keep himself from blushing. “I skipped breakfast.”

Sansa nodded her head in understanding. “I did as well. Nerves, you know?” She glanced down at the clock. “It is actually my lunch break in five minutes. Would you, um…” Sansa trailed off. She played with the ends of her hair and kept her eyes planted firmly on the desk. “If you aren’t doing anything, you can eat with me, if you like.”  

“Yes.” Jon blurted out without thought. He winced when he realized he sounded more like an immature green boy than a man fully grown.

Sansa looked up at him, her eyes wide and hopeful. “Really?” She asked.

“Yes.” Jon said again, forcing himself to sound a bit more composed. “Maybe we can eat at the gardens I was telling you about? There are benches to sit on and some shaded areas as well.”

Sansa voiced her agreement before ageing to meet Jon back at the desk when her lunch break started.

Jon headed up the stairs to the café that was on the third floor of the building. Neither he nor Pyp had seen Sansa or Bran since helping them move, thus making it difficult to find out if Sansa and Theon were merely friends or something more. Pyp had naturally searched all aspects of social media to see if there was any information to be found, but Sansa’s accounts were barely touched, and Theon’s were used mostly for business purposes. Jon was only slightly embarrassed about the very in-depth conversation they had undergone trying to determine their relationship once their searching proved fruitless.  

Jon stared at the array of pastries and desserts while he waited for his turn to order. He normally didn’t pay them any attention but today he found he couldn’t take his eyes off them. He pursed his lips together and furrowed his brow.

Walking up to the register, Jon opened his mouth, deciding that, just this once, he would take a chance.

XXXXX

Sansa delicately placed a white linen napkin across her lap. She unpacked her lunch, which consisted of rice and some type of curry she must have heated up before they left the MoA. She smiled at the small heart shaped stick-it note that was stuck to her spoon.

“From Bran?” Jon asked as he unwrapped the packing on his sandwich.

Sansa hummed. “He wanted to remind me to do something nice for myself today.” She looked around at the colorful landscape of roses before them surrounded by different types of vibrant green shrubberies. “I will have to bring him here sometime. He would love it.”

“You two sound like you are close.”

Sansa’s eyes clouded over. It reminded Jon of before when he had asked her about going to school. “We weren’t always, but we have become closer more recently. It is the same with our sister Arya. Those two are my whole life.” Sansa blew on her curry before taking a bite. “Do you have any siblings?”

“Not that I know of.” Jon answered honestly. He opened his bag of chips and offered one to Sansa before taking one for himself. “My Dad was a deadbeat that left my Mom when he found out she was pregnant. It was the just the two of us my whole life.” Jon smiled as he thought about his life growing up. “We were poor, and she worked two jobs for the longest time until I was able to work myself, but I loved her. My life was hard but I wouldn’t change it for anything. No matter how hard it got, there was always love and happiness in our home.”

A single tear fell down Sansa’s cheek.

 “I’m sorry.” Jon said quickly. His life growing up was admittedly a bit sad to the outside observer, but he wouldn’t have said anything if he knew it would make her cry. He wanted to see Sansa happy and not sad. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I—”

Sansa wiped the tear from her cheek. Jon wished he could do it for her. “No, you didn’t say anything wrong. The life you described, the love you felt from and for your mom, it’s what I want for Bran and Arya. You make me think it might be possible.” Sansa took in a deep breath. “My parents, older brother, and younger brother died in a horrible car accident. It is why Bran is paralyzed. Somehow Arya made it out with only a broken arm. I was away at KLU when it happened. When I got the call from the hospital, I was drunk at a party, making out with some guy whose name I never bothered to learn. I was a stupid, spoiled child who only cared about herself. I couldn’t even get on a flight home because I was too drunk to be allowed on the plane. I had to wait until the next afternoon to fly home.”

Sansa looked at the flowers surrounding them. “When I finally made it to the hospital, Arya was furious with me. She called me a selfish bitch and told me to go back to KLU and insisted she would take care of Bran all by herself despite being barely sixteen. It hurt, because she was right. I walked into the bathroom ashamed of myself and what I had done that kept me from getting back to her and Bran when they needed me. I sat on the floor and sobbed. When I went to splash water on my face, I stared at myself in the mirror, wondering what I was going to do. For one terrible moment I actually contemplated doing what Arya said and leaving them. I stared at myself for what felt like hours, until I finally said, ‘Sansa, those two are your life now. You are going to be their sister, you are going to take care of them, and you are going to love them no matter what’. For the past five years, that is what I have tried to do. It hasn’t always been easy, but I like to think the change in my relationship with them is proof I have become better, that I have loved them like I wanted to.”

Sansa let out a small laugh. “Would you believe I would stare at myself in the mirror every morning, telling myself that everything was going to be all right and that I was going to do a good job taking care of Arya and Bran? It sounds silly, but it helped me believe in myself.”

Jon shook his head. “I don’t think it is silly at all. I used to do it myself.” He told her honestly.

At her questioning gaze, Jon proceeded to tell her about Ygritte. He kept out the specifics—though he had moved on it still hurt to vocalize the list of negative thing Ygritte said about him—and instead shared how she told him he was essentially unloveable. She looked at him with understanding as he told her of his own experiences talking to his reflection in the mirror. When he was done speaking, a comfortable silence settled between the two of them.

“Do you always talk about such heavy things during lunch?” Sansa teased once she finished her curry. She bumped Jon lightly on his shoulder with her own.

Jon swore his arm felt warm and fuzzy from the contact.

“No.” He said a bit sheepishly. He rubbed the back of his neck. “I usually don’t talk about Ygritte at all. I don’t want people to judge me or think I am damaged because of what happened.” Jon looked down at the last bite of his sandwich. “It just felt right, sharing it with you.”

“I feel the same way. I almost never share what happened with my family, but with you… It felt good to talk about it.”

Jon looked up at see Sansa’s blue eyes staring back at him. He swallowed, feeling his heart begin to beat within his chest. Their gaze should have felt intense, but instead it felt like a soothing balm to Jon’s soul. He longed to reach out and caress her cheek to share with her through his touch the things he was feeling.

Sansa’s alarm on her phone went off, breaking the moment.

Jon cleared his throat. “Time to go?” He asked. He wished her lunch break could go on forever.

Sansa nodded her head. “Yes.” She said a bit sadly. Her eyes swept over the gardens once more before she began to pack up her lunch box and water bottle. “Thank you for brining me here. It really is lovely.”

“Your welcome.” Jon placed his trash into the to-go bag he was given with his sandwich, bag of chips, and energy drink. He had forgotten about it during the conversation, but there, at the bottom of the bag, was a wrapped chocolate chip cookie.

Jon steeled his nerves. He always over-thought things because he was afraid of accidently offending someone with a careless word or two. He never wanted to be seen as mean or ill-willed after he was treated that way by his peers as a child. It had taken a lot of courage to buy the cookie. He had agonized over it, afraid that perhaps Sansa had a food allergy or didn’t like chocolate. He watched her out of the corner of his eye. Her hair had fallen into her face as she leaned down to pick up her bag and Jon was able to pick up the faint scent of her perfume among all the flowers that surrounded them.

It was now or never.

“I, uh… Well, that is—I bought this. For you.” Jon took the cookie out of the bag and offered it to her, unable to meet her eyes due to nerves. “It’s a chocolate chip cookie. I hope you like them.”

Sansa’s long, delicate fingers brushed against his as she took the cookie from his hand. “Thank you, Jon.” She said reverently. “I… thank you.”

Jon looked up to see her staring at the cookie like it was the most precious thing she had ever seen. She delicately unwrapped it from its packaging before breaking it apart into two halves. Sansa kept the slightly smaller half for herself and held out the other to Jon.

“Would you like to share with me?”

Jon reached out. He bypassed the offered half and gently took the slightly smaller one that she had kept for herself.

“I would love to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: My husband actually knew my ex-fiancée (they lived in the same apartment complex before I moved in when we got engaged), and he legit hated him. When we first met he couldn't believe we were together, and was slightly sad because he wanted to ask me out for himself. Anyway, he was loving all the commentary about how much of a douchebag my ex-fiancée was. 
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you all so much for you comments, kudos, and hits. I am simply blown away and humbled by such support. 
> 
>  
> 
> Please comment if you like and have a fab day!


	4. Courage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your comments, hits, and kudos! I am truly blown away by how many people are reading this story and enjoying it. 
> 
> I took away the chapter total because now that this is no longer a one-shot I find myself adding more to the sections because I love details and have problems.

Courage

 

“Will you calm down? All your running back and forth is making me feel sick.”

 “You know, you could help me. This is your apartment too.” Jon pressed pause on the on-line cooking demonstration he was trying to keep up with. Who knew roasting a chicken would be so difficult?

 Pyp took a sip of his beer. “I did help you.”

“You suggested we order take-out.” Jon scowled.

“So?” Pyp asked with an arched brow. “We made the money that paid for the take-out, so technically we still made dinner. And, spoiler alert, the people who make the take-out can actually cook. You, my friend, cannot.”

“I cook better than you.” Jon muttered. He scooped out a portion of his homemade herb past and began to slather it on the chicken. “Why is this so much runnier than what she made?” He asked helplessly.

“Who the fuck knows.” Pyp stood from his place at the kitchen table and looked over Jon’s shoulder. “None of these people actually want you to become good cooks. They probably skip certain steps or tell you the wrong amount of ingredients to keep you coming back for their help. I mean, has anyone ever really needed a full onion for anything? _Ever_?”

Jon knit his forehead together. “Maybe it’s the type of olive oil I used. She said extra virgin but we only had virgin.”

“Yeah, because there is a difference.” Pyp scoffed. He walked back to the table for another drink of beer. “Why are you so stressed anyway? You and Sansa have eaten together twice already.”

Jon finished seasoning the chicken. He washed his hands in the sink while Pyp placed it in the oven and set the timer.

“I really like her, Pyp.” Jon said over the sounds of the running water. “She is kind, and intelligent, and sweet, and beautiful. I just… I really want her to like me, too. Is it wrong to want to impress her?”

Jon’s mind flitted back to the night Ygritte broke up with him. He was all the things she said, but she made them sound so dirty and wrong, when in the eyes of someone else they could be considered something good and wonderful. He sincerely hoped Sansa was one of those people.  

Pyp pulled out a knife from its wooden holder. He flipped the cutting board Jon had used for the herbs over and began to cut the broccoli that would be used as a side dish to the chicken.

“Everybody wants to look their best at the beginning. Where most people go wrong is presenting themselves as something they are not. Impress her with being you, Jon, and not some untrue version of yourself.”

Jon dried of his hands. “I know. I like who I am. I don’t think there is anything wrong with not wanting to go to parties or not being overly spontaneous. I am just worried that she won’t think that way.”

Pyp stopped cutting the broccoli. He turned to Jon and looked him dead in the eye. “Jon, forget for a second that Sansa is unbelievingly beautiful. Don’t think; just answer. Do you really think you would be happy being in a relationship with Sansa if she liked to do those things and forced you to do them as well?”

“No.” Jon said without hesitation. “I wouldn’t.” He grabbed a sheet pan out of the cupboard and placed the cut broccoli onto it. “But it isn’t bad to hope that she does like those things, right?”

“Of course not.” Pyp walked over to the tablet and scrolled away from the video to look at the written directions of the recipe. “Believe me when I say it is better to discover these things now, though, and not when it is date number five and you have already invested shitloads of dragons and time into the girl. Discover early, save your money.”

Jon thought over their discussion while Pyp proceeded to read the recipe in silence. Lunch with Sansa the day before had been just as wonderful as the one on Tuesday, only this time they had stayed away from heavy topics. Regardless of their conversation staying light it was far from superficial. Sansa was bright and effervescent as she talked about her new job at the MoA and her plans for decorating her and Bran’s new apartment. Jon had never been much of a talker—he was good at teaching but that was more lecturing than conversation and therefore, in his opinion, quite different—but Sansa refused to dominate the conversation, and was always asking Jon questions that pertained to their chosen topic and his own opinions of them. Jon found within minutes of their second lunch together that he loved talking with Sansa. He hung on her every word and appreciated that she didn’t take his silence for granted but instead seemed genuinely interested in hearing what he had to say when she asked him a question or on the rare occasions he would offer up information on his own.

Jon liked her, and he wanted her to like him, but he knew Pyp was right; changing who he was to get Sansa to like him would only end in them resenting the other, and that was far from what he wanted. Besides, if she truly liked everything Jon disliked, he knew he wouldn’t want to be with her anyway. Everything felt good now, but it was the beginning stages of getting to know each other; spending time together would be the true test of their possible compatibility.

Pyp clapped his hands together. “Okay, the chicken is in the oven, the broccoli is cut, and it looks like we only have one thing left.” Pyp said out loud, bringing Jon’s focus back to the matter at hand. “What the fuck is couscous?”

Jon picked up the box he had placed next to the oven after coming home from the market. “I have no clue, but here’s to hoping it tastes delicious.”

XXXXX

Jon jiggled his foot nervously under the table as Sansa took her first bite of food. Bran had already declared it as being delicious, and while Jon was appreciative of the praise—he didn’t think he and Pyp had ever made a complete meal before—he found himself caring far more about Sansa’s opinion than her brothers. He kept his eyes resolutely on his plate, preferring to stare at her covertly through his lashes to keep her from feeling uncomfortable.

“This is really delicious.” Sansa declared one she swallowed the first bite. She quickly took another. “The chicken is so most, and I love couscous. I make poor Bran eat it at least twice a month if not more.”

Jon felt like he could finally breath again. “Good.” He said softly. He met Sansa’s eyes and gave her a small smile. “That’s good.”

Sansa beamed at him. Her long red hair was down today and ironed straight. She held back each side with a bright yellow clip that sat atop her head. Her sundress was a bright blue and matched the color of her eyes.  

She looked lovely.

“So, Bran, how was the first week of school?” Jon asked, forcing himself to draw his attention away from the girl sitting in front of him.

“Hard.” Bran groaned. “One of my classes is having a test every two weeks. Who does that?”

“Jon does.” Pyp said dryly. “That is why his students hate him.”

“Hey!” Jon cried with indignation. “I only test them after each section, which only takes us two weeks to get through. Besides, all the tests are open note. It’s not like I am asking them to memorize everything.”

“They are only open note because half the students complained to Arianne that you were being too difficult for an entry level class and you are weak to their complaints.”

Jon glared at Pyp. What he was saying was true, but he wasn’t weak. He was simply being a good professor that listened to the needs of his students.

Pyp rolled his eyes when he told him as much.

“I think it is nice you want your students to know you care.” Sansa said. “It shows what kind of person you are.”  

“Thank you, Sansa.” Jon said sincerely. He quickly wiped his mouth with his napkin to hide the flush beginning to grow on his neck.

“How do you like working at the MoA?” Pyp asked in between bites of chicken. Jon noticed he didn’t have a single vegetable on his plate. “Jon said he ran into you there after his classes.”

Pyp was technically lying, but Jon appreciated how he phrased the sentence to not make him sound like he was obsessed with her, which he wasn’t. Jon had merely relayed every detail of both their lunches with Pyp and had him analyze their conversation and body language to see if maybe, possibly, she liked him back.

Normal guy stuff.

“I like it.” Sansa said earnestly before taking another bite of couscous.

From his place at the table Jon could hear her small moan of pleasure from its lemony taste. He bypassed his beer and took a drink of his ice water instead.

“Everyone is very nice and helpful, and it is much better than my old jobs.”

“What, uh, did you do?” Jon asked. She had never mentioned her previous work during their lunches.

“I worked part time as receptionist at a pediatricians office. It liked it, but I was always getting sick from all the germs no matter how many times I washed my hands or how many vitamins I took. The pay was good, but not enough, so for extra income I worked as a waitress at a sports bar.” Sansa’s face fell. “I… didn’t like that job as much.”

“Her boss was a sleaze and the drunk guys would try to paw at her.” Bran said. “Arya wanted her to quit once she joined the military and we had more income, but Sansa refused.”

Sansa shrugged. “We didn’t know you would get a scholarship. I wanted to be prepared for any situation. If you wanted to go to college, you were going, period.”

A picture of Jon’s mother flashed before his eyes as Sansa excused her hardships as nothing more than a necessity she would do again if she had to.

“You’re a good person.” Jon blurted out before he realized what he was doing.

Every eye at the table turned to look at him. Jon quickly looked down and took a bite of his food. He was embarrassed to have the attention turned towards him for accidently saying something that he meant with his whole heart to a girl he barely knew in front of his roommate and her brother.

“Agreed.” Pyp said smoothly, sensing Jon’s distress and effectively bringing the attention to himself. “Though, it sounds like you didn’t have much time for what some people would consider normal for our age, like going out on dates and such.”

Jon felt himself calming down now that Pyp was leading the conversation, and doing it in a way that would maybe, hopefully, let Jon know if she was dating Theon. After the time he spent with her, Jon didn’t they were together, but that didn’t mean she didn’t want them to be together.

 “Sansa never does anything for herself.” Bran said with a slight frown.

His sister merely smiled at him and ruffled his hair affectionately. “Someday.” She promised.

“Someday soon.” Bran amended.

Jon sighed to himself as the moment was put to a close without him getting any closer to the problem that was Theon Greyjoy. He silently watched as Pyp, for once recognizing not to pry, let the conversation drop. He regaled Sansa and Bran about his first week of school and his plans for the class he was teaching. Already knowing how Pyp’s week went, Jon tuned out the conversation, instead thinking over everything new he had just learned about Sansa.

He frowned discreetly as he thought about her never doing anything for herself. Jon firmly believed everyone should have one thing they could call their own. Even his mother, who worked so hard to provide for them, had a quilting club she attended every Saturday morning. She loved going, and always came back looking refreshed and ready to tackle whatever trial the next week would bring.

Something Sansa could do for herself…

Jon steadied his nerves as an idea came to mind. It could help her, and she might even enjoy it, but it was far from romantic. In fact, it wasn’t necessarily considered very girly, and Jon often found himself thinking of Sansa as a princess. Still, it had helped him with his self-esteem, and maybe it could help her as well. Besides, lots of girls did it.

Princesses were warriors too, right?

Jon discreetly looked at Sansa over the top of his beer bottle as he took a drink. She was laughing at something Pyp has said. It sounded like windchimes tinkling together. He remembered what Sansa had told him about raising her sister and Bran on her own without any knowledge of how she was going to take care of or provide for them. Maybe she wasn’t wielding a sword like warriors had done in the history books, but what she did had taken a lot of courage, and wasn’t that the point of being a warrior? Having courage in the face of the unknown?

Wasn’t the role of a princess to take care of her people? Make sure they were clothed and fed?

“Sansa.” Jon said with as much of a steady voice as he could  muster. He would ask her, and if she said no, then that was fine. It didn’t mean anything if she said no. “Pyp and I go to an Olympic Weightlifting class three times a week at the Student Health Center. You should, uh, come with us. The class is Monday, Wednesday, and Friday at four.”

“Olympic Weightlifting?” Sansa said with an arched eyebrow. She looked slightly intrigued, which Jon took as a win, but also a little confused, which was maybe a little less of a win.

Pyp quickly jumped in once he realized what Jon was doing. “Believe me, I had that same expression when Jon mentioned it to me two years ago. But the class is good, plus you get a free membership to the Wellness Center as an employee of the school. I was absolutely horrible in the beginning. Even though I hate to admit this in front of Jon because I don’t want him to think he was right, it is pretty exciting to see all the progression I have made when I literally started at the bottom. I bet you will love it once you get the hang of it.”

“You should do it, San.” Bran encouraged. “Aren’t you always forcing me to stay active? There is a wheelchair basketball league I saw a flyer for that is at the same time on Monday and Wednesday. We can both be healthy together. Plus, think of how proud Arya would be of you.”

“I don’t know…” Sansa said slowly. “I haven’t exercised in forever. It sounds like a pretty intense way to start back up again.”

“Our coach, Grenn, is very good. I have never exercised in my life and now look at me.” Pyp flexed his bicep. “I’m a beautiful beefcake.”

Sansa and Bran laughed.

“I can be your partner, if you like.” Jon said. He was proud of himself for not stuttering over his words. He felt himself gaining a bit more confidence with the realization. “Grenn always puts the new people with a more experienced partner. My old one graduated over the summer, and nobody new has joined since then.”

A light blush stained Sansa’s cheeks. “You wouldn’t mind helping me?”

“No, I wouldn’t.” Jon hoped she could hear how sincere he was being.

Sansa sat quietly for a moment, thinking over everyone’s encouragement. A slow smile began to form across her face and her blue eyes sparkled with determination.

“I’ll do it.”

XXXX

Jon’s eyes scanned the indoor track as he moved back and forth on the gym’s rowing machine. The open space was used primarily for the school’s athletes, but their coach, Grenn, had received special permission from the athletic department to bring in nonathletic students three times a week to teach them Olympic Weightlifting. His main job was working as the head trainer for IIU’s swim team, and Jon suspected that due to him coaching the team to three national titles in five years, the athletic department was willing to give Grenn whatever he asked for less they risk losing him to another university.

“Let’s bring it in!” Grenn called.

Jon dejectedly got off the rowing machine and walked into the center of the six weight racks that were set up in two parallel rows of three each with an open square in the middle.

Sansa was nowhere to be seen.

Pyp gave Jon a brief look of sympathy before they both turned their attention to the board that held their workout for the day. Monday was always the clean and jerk, Wednesday the snatch, and Friday was accessory work for either lift.

“I think he is trying to fucking kill us today.” Pyp whispered as they listened to Grenn.

Jon agreed, though he was looking forward to the challenge. He reminded himself that Sansa not showing up was not an indicator that she did not appreciate his gesture, nor did she dislike his company. Sometimes, not going to something simply meant you didn’t want to go; there didn’t always have to be a deeper meaning.

Grenn finished his explanation for the main focus of their class. They would start with a power clean, then go into a hang clean without resetting, and finish with a front squat. Jon rolled his shoulders in preparation as he walked to his rack. He began to slide a red and one green on either side of the bar for his first warm-up when a familiar voice interrupted his concentration.

“Is this Olympic Weightlifting?” Sansa’s timid voice asked. She was standing on the outside of the square and looking a bit nervous. “I’m sorry for being late. I had trouble finding where to go.”

“Sansa! You made it!” Pyp called to her happily. He ducked under his bar and walked towards her. He introduced her to Grenn, while all Jon could do was stand there trying to keep his mouth from falling open at the sight of her.

Even in her exercise clothes she looked breathtaking. Her hair was parted into two long braids and she wore black, calf length leggings and a loose tank top. Jon quickly cleared his throat when he realized all the single unmarried guys were also looking at her and quickly ducked under his own bar to go and stand next to her, all the while telling himself that he was not a caveman and wasn’t moving towards her to mark his territory.

“Have you ever done weightlifting before?” Grenn asked her.

Sansa shook her head. “No. I haven’t exercised in a while, but I mostly stuck with cardio when I did.”

Grenn smiled. “No worries. I like to ask so that I can get a feel for what level you are.” He lightly punched Pyp in the shoulder. “This doofus was a total mess when he first came, but now he is slightly better.”

Sansa laughed. “What about Jon?”

Jon bit back a smile to hear her be curious about him.

“One of these days I am going to convince Jon to let me coach him one-on-one and take him to a competition. He is very, very good.” Grenn said in all seriousness.

Jon ducked his head. “I am just okay.”

“There will always be something to learn, but never let that keep you from being proud of what you have accomplished.” Grenn said sagely.

“Yeah Jon, just admit your strong and sexy already.” Pyp cut in. “The rest of us normal people are stuck working with bread crumbs.”

Jon glared at Pyp while Sansa coughed behind her hand to hide her laugh.

 “Okay, first things first.” Grenn said, bringing their attention back to the matter at hand. “I am going to start you with a PVC pipe to get you used to the motions, then move you to the fifteen-pound bar once you feel comfortable. Don’t be discouraged if that is all you do today. We are about form here, not stupidly slinging around heavy weights to show off.”

Sansa waved her hand. “Oh, I don’t care about that. I… well…” Sansa flushed. “I just want to do something for myself and feel good about it.”

Grenn nodded. “Good. Those are my favorite people to work with.” Grenn turned his attention to the rest of the class. “Everyone, this is Sansa.” The class gave out a few cheers for a greeting. “This is her first time, but she is going to do great. Would any of you who don’t have a partner right now like to be teamed up with her?”

Jon’s eyes widened with horror as Val began to raise her hand.

“I’ll do it!” He said as quickly and loudly as was socially acceptable. Jon cleared his throat as Grenn turned to look at him. “I already know her, and well, I uh, I already told she could work me.”

Jon pointedly ignored Sansa’s pleased smile at making his volunteering to help her official. He was afraid that if he looked at her now, he would give himself and his budding feelings away.

“Perfect.” Grenn clapped Jon on the back. “I love the enthusiasm.”

Jon exhaled as walked back to his own rack while Sansa began to practice with her PVC under Grenn’s watchful eye.

Pyp waggled his eyebrows. “Yes, what wonderful enthusiasm.” Pyp whispered under his breath.

Jon didn’t reply, instead allowing himself a few brief moments to watch Sansa as she concentrated on Grenn’s cues while setting up her stance before going through the motions of the clean. Her moves were choppy and awkward, but she refused to quit as she reset herself once more. Jon felt his chest swell at her determination. She may look delicate, but Sansa was far from weak.

Perhaps she really was a warrior princess after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun (?) fact: I wanted Jon to do something with fitness, and chose Olympic Weightlifting because it is something we have never seen before and because I personally like doing it myself even though I am still a bit of a newbie at it. For his warm up, Jon was lifting 155 pounds. The red plates weigh 45 each, the green plates are 10, and the bar weighs an additional 45. If you are curious about the sequence Grenn has them doing, I have a video of me doing it posted to my Instagram account (we did it in class a week ago and it was brutal). Check it out if you like at trainer.hannah. It is a newer post and I am wearing an old school Star Wars tank top. 
> 
> Thank you all so, so much for reading! 
> 
> Please comment if you like and have a great day!!


	5. Friday Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the support this story has received! I am truly blessed.
> 
>  
> 
> General Disclaimer: I am not George Martin.

Jon stared at the paper in front of him. He hadn’t taken his eyes of it from the moment he came home, took it out of his bag, and laid down on the couch. His lips puckered out slightly and his baseball cap was pulled low onto his forehead while his left knee bounced side to side. Jon knew he was the ‘picture of perfect brooding’ as Pyp would say, but he didn’t care; there were bigger things to worry about.

Was it too soon?

Or was it already too late?

Jon was so engrossed in his thoughts that he barely registered Pyp opening the door to their apartment and stepping inside.  

“I swear to the Old Gods and New if I have to deal with one more fucking student thinking he knows more than me I am going to lose my fucking—what have you got there?” Pyp asked in one swift breath. He toed off his shoes and walked over to where Jon was having his existential crisis. “The Tulip Festival? Sounds boring as hell.”

Jon frowned. “You think so?” He felt himself deflate as what little hope he has left his body.

Maybe the whole thing hadn’t been a good idea to begin with.

Pyp nodded seriously. “I do. Unless…” He rubbed his chin, a slow smile beginning to form. “Unless you are the very beautiful, the very kind, and the very much single, Sansa Stark.” Pyp gave Jon a quick wink before turning on his heel walking into the kitchen. “Mic drop, bitches.”

Jon rolled off the couch and was behind Pyp in one swift stride. “What did you just say?”

Pyp grabbed a beer bottle from the fridge, uncaring that it was only two in the afternoon. “I was eating lunch today, minding my own business and reading an excellent article about how the brave heroes who protested the outrageous bookstore fees were still at large, when who should roll up to my table and ask to join me but the adorably earnest Bran Stark. We had a delightful conversation. It was quit enlightening.” Pyp took a sip of his beer. He smacked his lips together in appreciation. “That student in class today was such a little shit, by the way. He had the gall to—"

“Pyp, who gives a fuck about the student? He was an asshole!” Jon yelled in exasperation. He took the bottle out of Pyp’s hands and placed it on the counter. “What did you say to Bran? How did you find out Sansa is single? Did you tell Bran I like her? Because I swear to the Gods if you did—”

Pyp placed a hand on Jon’s shoulder. “Relax, Jon. Breath.”

Jon shrugged off Pyp’s shoulder. He looked at the now crumbled flyer for the Tulip Festival once more. Jon was holding onto it like a lifeline. “Just tell me. _Please_.” He pleaded.

As he stared at the flyer once more, Jon found it was all too easy to envision himself walking through the gardens at Pyke Castle with Sansa, her hair gleaming in the sunlight and a sweet smile on her face as she took in the hundreds of tulips around them. Jon had noticed the first time he took her to the gardens on campus that she loved flowers, and he knew she would love the Tulip Festival even more. And Jon would love it too, because he would get to experience it with her, seeing it through her eyes and not his own.

“It’s going to be okay, Jon. For what its worth I really think Sansa—”

“What if I am too late?” Jon tore his eyes from the flyer. “What if I have been friend-zoned?” He asked with desperation.

Pyp grunted in disbelief. “I doubt you have been friend-zoned. You eat lunch together twice and week and she always looks happy to see you at weightlifting.” Pyp picked his drink back up and grabbed a bag of chips out of the cupboard.

Jon frowned at his friend’s snack choices. “You know we have class in two hours, right?”

Pyp sat down at their table. “Don’t judge me.” He said between a mouthful of chips. “That fucking prick really pissed me off. Just consider it carbo-loading.”

Jon opened his mouth to explain what Pyp was doing was not how carbo-loading worked, but quickly decided against it. They needed to get back to the matter at hand and not be side-tracked.

“So… Sansa is single?” He asked as nonchalantly as he could even though it was pointless to do so. Pyp knew how he felt about her.

“She sure is.” Pyp took another bite of chips, purposely drawing out his explanation.

Jon wanted to throttle him.

“It was shockingly easy to get the necessary information out of Bran. All I did was ask him if they had any plans for the weekend, and he said they were just going to stay at home. He has some big test coming up he needs to study for. When I acted shocked that someone as lovely as Sansa wasn’t going out on a date, Bran told me that she hasn’t dated anyone since their parents died, though he and their sister certainly have tried to get her to go out a couple of times over the years.” Pyp took a satisfying sip of his beer. “Case closed”

“And Theon?” Jon pressed.

“Close family friend, but more a brother than anything.”

Jon absent-mindedly began to rub the flyer between his fingers as realized he had no more excuses for waiting to ask Sansa out on an official date. Unfortunately, he hadn’t been this nervous to ask someone out in years, and it was fraying away at his nerves. Ygritte had pursued him more than the other way around—Jon tried not to dwell on the irony of that fact—and the girls he occasionally went out with were nothing more than a slight attraction on his part. Sansa was different. She was special, and Jon really wanted her to say yes.

“Do you think she will go out with me? Or do you think I waited too long?”

Jon had been careful to get to know Sansa before asking her out on an official date. He didn’t want Sans to feel like he was only interested in what she could offer him romantically or physically. While he would love to kiss her—and do more, if he was honest—Jon wanted to get to know her first before, hopefully, becoming anything else.

After spending almost every day with Sansa the past four weeks, there wasn’t a doubt in Jon’s mind they considered each other a friend. Their conversations flowed easily during lunch—Sansa still did most of the talking but Jon found himself wanting to say more with each meeting—and he secretly loved how she would tease him about being the only person who could still look broody while lifting well over a hundred and fifty pounds during Olympic Weightlifting.

Pyp sighed as Jon continued to contemplate his possible fate in broody silence. He stood and walked back over to the fridge. Pyp eyed Jon’s downcast expression before opening the door and grabbing another beer bottle. He opened the top and placed it down in front of Jon.

“The only way to know is to ask.” Pyp clinked their bottles together. “Here’s to some liquid courage, mate.”

Jon picked up his bottle and took a small sip, his gaze once more returning to the flyer. It was the last weekend of the event. If he going to ask Sansa to the festival, it would have to be tonight.

His mind flashed back to the conversation he and Pyp shared before Sansa and Bran came over for dinner. Even though Pyp was often wrong on a lot of things, he was correct in saying that it was better for Jon to find out sooner rather than later if he and Sansa were compatible. The was only one way to find out if Sansa’s shared his desire in becoming something more than friends. Her answer would change everything, but Jon quickly reminded himself that change wasn’t always bad. If she said yes, then he could pursue her. If she said no, he could let his feelings for her go and continue to keep his eyes open for the girl that was going to be the love of his life. He hoped it was Sansa, but if it wasn’t, better to find out now before he fell completely in love with her, which he already felt like he was beginning to do.

Jon bit the inside of his cheek, his decision made. “Okay.” He said softly. “I’ll do it.”

XXXXXX

“Yes!” Grenn shouted. “I am proud of this group!” He pumped the air around him with his fist. “One more time boys and girls.”

Jon watched Sansa out of the corner of his eye as she prepared for their last set. While normally left to themselves on Friday with Grenn going around and offering help and advice, Grenn had decided to switch things up a bit and have the class finish with an EMOM. He had two different sequences written on the board depending on if you had been working on the snatch or the clean and jerk. It had been a grueling nine minutes, with each set being completed at the top of the minute and then having the rest of the time to rest and refocus before the next minute began.

As if sensing his eyes on her, Sansa turned from where she was standing and gave him a tired smile. While she wasn’t lifting heavy in comparison to the rest of the class—Grenn was always stressing to be in competition with nobody but yourself—she was lifting heavy for what her slim body could handle.

“Thirty seconds!”

Jon eye’s reluctantly left Sansa to find the spot on the wall he preferred to look at while lifting. He took in a few deep breaths to calm his heartbeat.

“Twenty seconds!”

“I am going to fucking crush this.” Pyp grunted. “Then eat a shitload of protein for dinner.”

Sansa let out a small laugh at Pyp’s declaration before setting her hands on the bar in the front on her. Both she and Jon, as well as a few others in class, had chosen to work on the snatch. In Jon’s opinion it was the harder of the two lifts and had been giving him trouble the past few weeks. He hadn’t PR’d in a while, and while he hadn’t been able to in class that day, he felt like it was more possible in the coming weeks thanks to some advice from Grenn.

Jon set his grip. He did a few small squats to warm up his legs before rolling his shoulders to help straighten his back.

“In three, two, one, go!”

Jon lifted the bar off the ground. He made sure to brush it off his hips before getting himself under the bar and locking out with his arms. He went down into a full squat before bringing himself up into a standing position. Jon slowly let the air out his lungs before holding his breath once more and doing one more overhead squat. He dropped the bar onto the ground, making sure to back away from it so he didn’t hurt himself.

“Ugh! I’m dead!” Pyp cried dramatically. He threw himself onto the floor. “Jon, you are going to have to carry me home. I can’t feel my body.”

“What happened to all the protein you were going to eat tonight?” Val shouted over to him.

“I’ll eat it if you make it!” He shouted back.

Val laughed. “I would love to, but three’s a crowd and I don’t think my girlfriend would like you as much as I do.”

“Everyone’s taken.” Pyp sighed.  

Jon rolled his eyes. He took his weights off the bar and began to clean his space. He gave a small, hesitant smile to Sansa.

“Good job today, Sansa.” Jon said shyly. While he had gotten over his stuttering around her, he couldn’t help feeling a bit shy when he knew what he would be attempting in a few minutes.

“Thanks!” She beamed, bringing her long braid to rest over her shoulder.

Jon’s palms immediately felt sweaty, and it wasn’t from the workout.

Sansa took a sip of water from her bright pink water bottle before beginning to rerack her weights. “I am trying to focus on one thing at a time instead of letting myself get overwhelmed with everything at once. Baby steps, you know?”

“I think that’s a good idea. You form is already looking really good considering it has only been a month.” Jon told her honestly. While it was true she still had a lot of to work on, she didn’t look nearly as awkward as she had four weeks ago.

Sansa rubbed her arm. Jon noticed it was a nervous tic of hers when she was getting ready to share something she was a bit embarrassed about.

“I may have looked at a bunch of tutorials on-line. I know it’s silly; I’m never going to compete or look like any of those people, but if I am going to do this, I want to do it correctly.” Sansa’s cheeks turned a light shade of pink at her confession. “It has helped a lot.” She mumbled.

Jon quickly picked up his now empty bar and placed it on the rack before he did something stupid like outline her blush with his thumb. “I don’t think it’s silly.” He told her, grabbing her bar before she could protest and putting it away as well. “I still look some things up every now and then. When we stop thinking we can improve, we stop progressing.”

After helping Pyp stand, the three of them proceeded to get their bags out of their cubbies at the gym’s entrance. Grenn stopped them briefly to praise Sansa’s work ethic for the day before congratulating Pyp for setting a new personal record on his clean and jerk.  

“Well, I’m off to the library.” Pyp declared once he secured the straps of his backpack onto his shoulders.

Jon shot Pyp a suspicious look. Pyp’s only goal during his undergrad was to say he never once set foot in IIU’s library, and he continued with it once he started their master’s program.

“Big test this weekend?” Sansa asked. “Bran has one tomorrow. He will probably be at the library studying until late tonight.”

“Nope, no test.” Pyp said brightly. He waited for them to exit the gym before following behind.

“A project then?”

“Not really.” Pyp waved to the two of them before walking in the opposite direction towards the library. “See you later!” He called over his shoulder.

Sansa scrunched her forehead in confusion. “Okay?” She looked up at Jon. “Why is Pyp—”

“Don’t ask. It only gets more confusing.” Jon rubbed the back of his neck, briefly glancing in the direction that would take them back to their apartment building. “Do you, uh, want to walk home? Together?”

Maybe he hadn’t completely stopped his stuttering.

Sansa nodded her agreement, causing Jon to take heart that she wanted to spend more time with him. He breathed in the smell of the ocean air as he began to walk with Sansa through campus. He felt bad for only half-listening to her talking about a new exhibit they were getting ready for at the museum. Ever since he had decided to ask her to the Tulip Festival, he had been thinking and rethinking of the best way to ask her without sounding like a complete idiot.

“Jon? Did you hear me?”

Jon gave Sansa an apologetic smile. “Sorry. What did you say?”

“I wanted to know if you had any plans for the weekend.”

 Jon took in a deep breath. He gripped the strap of his messenger bag with both hands. He forced himself to speak clearly and not rush his words. “I was thinking about going to the Tulip Festival at Pyke Castle on Sunday.”

“I saw the same flyer at the MoA and read about it today during my lunch break. I thought about taking Bran, but the tickets are too pricey for us right now.” Sansa said. “It sounds lovely, though. I am sure you will enjoy it.

Jon admired Sansa for not being embarrassed about her and Bran’s financial situation. She had mentioned before that she and Bran did not have a lot of money, but whenever she said it, Jon felt like Sansa was simply stating a fact and not looking for pity. She did not appear to envy those who had money, either. When she told Jon he would enjoy it, she sounded genuinely excited for him to go.

Jon felt his heart melt for her just a little bit more.

“Would you like to go?” Jon asked. His heart began to race as he waited for his answer. “Or do you already have plans?”

“No, no plans.” Sansa shrugged. “Maybe next year. Now that I know how much it is, I can plan accordingly.”

Jon pursed his lips together. Sansa hadn’t understood him. “No, I mean, would you like to go this year?” He tried again.

“Oh! You mean like buy me a ticket?”

Jon nodded his head, too eager for her answer to speak.

Sansa flashed him a grateful smile. “That is so sweet of you to offer, Jon, but it is really okay. I couldn’t ask you to spend money on a ticket for me for something so frivolous. I will go next to year with Bran.”

Jon let out a small huff in frustration. Sansa still wasn’t understanding him. “No, that isn’t what I meant. I wanted to know if you wanted—”

“Jon, I can’t take your ticket. You should go. You love the gardens on campus, and I am sure these ones will be even more beautiful. You must show me all the pictures you take so I—”

“I want you to come. With me.” Jon blurted out. He stopped walking so he could turn and face Sansa properly. “The two of us, together. No Bran, and no Pyp.”

Sansa’s mouth formed a perfect ‘o’ shape. “Wh-what?” She stuttered.  

Jon gripped the strap of his bag so tightly from nerves he felt his knuckles turning white. He took in a slow breath of air to steady himself.

“Sansa.” Jon said her name as if it was the loveliest word he had ever spoken. “I want you to come with me on a date to the Tulip Festival on Sunday. Will you come with me? Please?”

For a moment, the briefest, sweetest moment, Jon watched as Sansa’s blue eyes lit up as she finally understood what Jon was asking. She looked at him with such fondness that it eased Jon’s worries and he felt himself beginning to hope that she felt for him the same way he felt for her.

“I…” Sansa swallowed.

Jon leaned forward.

The light left Sansa’s eyes. The kindness of her features disappeared, replaced with a mask of indifference that Jon had never seen before.

Jon no longer recognized the girl standing before him.

“I can’t, Jon. I’m sorry, but I—No. I can’t go out with you.”

“O-Oh.” Jon stuttered. He felt like he had been punched in the gut. He took a step back, followed by another. “That’s, um, that’s okay.” Jon gave a swift nod of his head. “Yeah. Okay.”

“It isn’t you.” Sansa hurried to say. “I—”

“It’s okay. I understand.” Jon said quickly. He didn’t want to hear her rejection. At the end of the day, it really was because of him that Sansa was saying no; there wasn’t anything about Jon she found interesting enough to make her want to pursue something more.

Jon scratched the back of his neck, scrambling for a way to get out of the situation and away from Sansa before she tried to speak once more.

“I, uh, I just remembered I need to go to the library as well. I put in an order for some books I need for a project. I, um, received an e-mail about them arriving during class. I need to pick them up so I can get started on it tonight.” Jon lied. There were no books, and there was no project. “You can make it the rest of the way, yeah?”

Jon thought he saw Sansa’s face briefly crumble but told himself it was a trick of the light.

What did she have to be upset about? His was the heart that was breaking, not hers.

Sansa told him no.

“Can’t Pyp pick them up for you?” Sansa asked.

“No. I, uh, I have to sign for them. I’ll…” Jon pushed down the lump in his throat. “I’ll see you on Monday in class. Have a good weekend, Sansa.”

Jon gave her a short wave before quickly walking away. He headed towards the library, not really intending to go there but not knowing what else to do while he waited the few minutes it would take for Sansa to get home. Jon didn’t want to head back in that direction too soon and risk running into her. Monday would be difficult enough; he didn’t need or want to hear any apology she might have or any reason it ‘wasn’t him’ until then.

With every step he took, Jon tried not to think of how her name had felt bitter on his tongue.

XXXXX

“I swear just being close to the fucking library makes me want to—AH!” Pyp let out a small scream at the sight of Jon sitting on the couch alone and surrounded by silence. The sun was beginning to set and the red of the sky gave their apartment an eerie glow. Pyp frowned. “She said no?” He asked softly, not wanting to upset Jon any further.

“She did.” Jon confirmed. He thought about how beautiful and open Sansa’s face was for that single moment after he asked her out. “At first, I thought she would say yes, but…” Jon shrugged, remembering how her features had quickly turned to stone. Or maybe she had always looked that way, and Jon’s hope in her agreeing to go out with him had tricked his mind into seeing something that wasn’t there. “She doesn’t want to go out with me.” He said flatly.

Pyp threw his bag onto the floor before coming to sit next to him on the couch. “Just to be clear, because I want to understand how to help you, do you feel the same way when Ygritte dumped you?”

Jon crinkled his brow. “What? No.” He said quickly. It was true he was sad, a bit depressed even, but Sansa telling him ‘no’ did not compare to when Ygritte called off their wedding. “With Ygritte, my whole word came crashing down on me. I felt like shit. I mourned everything we had and could have had. I’m sad, yes, but not in the same way. It feels more like I missed the opportunity to have something really amazing with Sansa.”  Jon leaned his head back onto the couch, staring up at the ceiling. “Or at least I thought it would be amazing.”

“I’m really sorry Jon. I thought for sure she liked you in the same way you like her.”

Jon smirked, remembering what Pyp had told him hours after Ygritte broke up with him. “I’ll be all right. Maybe not today, and definitely not tomorrow, but someday.” He chuckled. “But I am not talking to my reflection in the mirror this time.”

Pyp patted him on the knee. “Sounds good to me. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Jon sighed heavily. “I will be.” He repeated.

It wasn’t a lie; Jon knew everything would be fine. He had survived worse. While it would take time—the dull ache in his chest was a constant reminder of Sansa’s rejection—he knew that too would fade.

All painful things ended; if they hadn’t yet, it just meant it wasn’t the end.  

“So…what’s the plan for tonight? Because you sure as shit are not just going to sit here brooding in the darkness.” Pyp declared.

Jon rubbed his lips together. He didn’t really feel like going out, but he didn’t feel like staying home either. It could be good to do something and get his mind off of Sansa’s rejection for a few hours.

“Anything you have in mind?” Jon asked, turning his head to face his best friend.

“The Kraken?” Pyp offered. “We can get shit faced, play pool, and not hit on girls because let’s be honest, you are not one for a rebound.”

Jon laughed lightly. “No, I am not.” He reached his arms overhead and stretched, wincing at his already sore muscles from class. “Shower, and then leave in an hour?”

“Sounds fucking perfect.” Pyp stood. He rubbed his hand over his stomach. “Burgers before Kraken? I am fucking starving. Class today was damn hard. We can try out the place Grenn was talking about.”

Jon hummed his agreement. He started to make his way to his room before pausing as the sound of Pyp whistling a classic rock song they both enjoyed. The past two years, hell, ever since his mom passed away, Jon could have easily felt like he was without anyone who cared about him in his life. Due to his quiet nature it was difficult to make friends, and he often found it difficult to open up to the few people he was close to. But, as he stood silently in the hallway listening to Pyp’s now off-key singing, Jon knew that even though he had felt lonely at times, he had never truly been alone.

“Pyp?”

 “Yeah?”

 “Thanks for being my friend.”

Pyp popped his head out of his bedroom. He grinned before giving Jon a two-fingered salute. “Thanks for being mine.”

XXXXX

_Knock._

_Knock._

_Knock._

Jon groaned. He rolled onto his stomach and threw a pillow over his head. “Fuck.” He moaned.

“Is that sound fucking real? Or is it the throbbing in my head?” Pyp burrowed himself farther into his blanket. “Make it fucking stop.” He whinned.

After coming home feeling pleasantly buzzed from Kraken—Jon had beaten Pyp in pool but Pyp had smoked him in darts—they had decided to have just one more drink each while watching a movie. One drink become two, and before either of them knew it they were doing shots every time the main character killed someone out of revenge for them killing his dog. They had passed out, drunk and exhausted, before the movie was finished. Jon wasn’t even sure who had turned the television off.

_Knock._

_Knock._

_Knockknockknock._

“Go away!” Pyp yelled. “I don’t want to buy any fucking thin mints right now!”

Jon squinted at the clock hanging from the wall, hoping the Gods had cured him of his notoriously bad vision while sleeping.

_Knockknockknockknockknockknock._

Jon reached about blindly for his glasses after giving up on being able to see anything that wasn’t directly in front of his face. He frowned when he saw what time it was.

“Who could possibly want anything at three in the morning?” He asked.

The knocking became louder and more persistent.

“Who fucking cares? If it is someone fucking robbing us give them our money and be fucking done with it. Just make them fucking go away before I throw up from all the noise.” Pyp rubbed a hand over his eyes. “I think I drank too much.”

Jon snorted. His head felt like shit and his mouth tasted like sandpaper. What he really wanted was a drink of water and to not deal with whoever was pounding on their door. He grabbed his water bottle out of his messenger bag from where he had dropped it by the door and quickly downed its remaining contents.

_Knockknockknockknockknockknockknockknock._

“All right, all right, I’m coming!”

Jon ripped open the door, ready to give whoever was on the other side a severe beating or at least a piece of his mind.

“S-Sansa?!” Jon stuttered in shock. “What are you—why are you here?”

Jon studied the girl in front of him as Sansa struggled to catch her breath. Her eyes looked impossibly blue, but Jon suspected that was due to the small tinges of red around her irises. If her slightly puffy face was anything to go by, then Sansa had been crying not too long ago. She was still wearing her workout clothes from early, and while her hair remained in the same long braid, many of the strands had come free. Her feet were bare.

“Sansa?!” Pyp yelled from his spot on the floor. He flung the blanket off from over his head and attempted to sit up. The action proved difficult due to his hangover. “Why didn’t you say yes? Jon is the best. The. Best. I know he might be shorter than most girls prefer but believe me when I say he more than makes up for it with the size of his—”

Jon stepped out of his apartment and closed the door behind him before Sansa could hear about the size of his manhood from his roommate.

“Did something happen to Bran?” Jon asked hesitantly. He desperately wanted to reach out and hold her hand, caress her knuckles until the rim of red in her eyes no longer remained, but her earlier words ceased any possible movement. Sansa didn’t want him, and while Jon still very much wanted her, he would never force himself or his feelings upon her. He would respect her to desire to keep their relationship as it was and nothing more.

Sansa shook her head. She rested her hands on her knees, drinking in deep breaths of air. “Sorry.” She panted. “There were… a lot… of stairs.”

“Did you run here?” Jon asked. The shock in his voice was evident. Their building had no elevator, hence why Sansa and Bran lived on the first floor, but Jon and Pyp lived on the fourth. It was quite a bit of stairs.

“I did.”

“Without shoes?”

“They didn’t seem very important.”

“Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m not.”

“Is it your sister, then?”

“No.”

“So, nobody is hurt?”

“No.”

Jon sighed. The water had done little to help his splitting headache, he was tired, and being around Sansa for seemingly no reason on her part was causing him more pain than he cared to admit. Jon felt his temper beginning to tick underneath the pounding in his skull.

“Then can whatever you have to say wait until tomorrow? Preferably sometime in the afternoon?” Jon said a bit hotly. “I am tired and I—"

“I hated who I was before my parents and brothers died!” Sansa half-shouted. Her eyes were squeezed closed and she was still folded in on herself, though she was no longer panting from exertion.

Jon immediately closed his mouth, his anger melting away with the action.

Sansa opened her eyes. “I _hated_ who I was.” She stood, squaring her shoulders. Her blue eyes pleaded with Jon to understand what she was about to say. “I was a stupid, spoiled girl who only cared about the latest fashions, parties, and what boy I was going to go out with that week. My siblings either hated or tolerated me. I wanted to go to KLU not for the programs but for the boys and the parties.”

Jon stood the hallway, dumbstruck, as Sansa started to fidget with the end of her braid. He didn’t know what to say, or if he should say anything at all, so he silently waited for Sansa to continue.

“The boys I dated came from wealthy families and were very attractive with blonde hair and blue eyes. They…” Sansa took in a shuddering breath. “They treated me like shit. They abused me emotionally and physically, and I believed every stupid word they said about me deserving it because of something I had done. I drank so I could forget how worthless they made me feel, and then I kept dating them because I believed it was the best I could do and that they were everything I ever wanted because they had looks and money, the only two things I seemed to care about.”

Jon’s anger returned, but for a different reason. He felt sick hearing that Sansa had been abused, regardless of what her personality was like at the time. He wanted to beg her to give him a chance, to show her the way someone as lovely as her should be treated, but he refrained. He had resolved to respect her decision, and if it was the only way to show her not all guys were fucking assholes, then that is what he would do.

“As I watched my parents and brothers be lowered into the ground, with none of my so-called friends or boys that claimed to love me there for support, I knew I had been very, very wrong about what mattered. Nothing was more important to me at that moment than Bran and Arya and giving them a life full of love and support. I went back to the home we could no longer afford that was full of moving boxes and poured every drop of alcohol down the drain. I swore I would never drink, party, or date again. Bran and Arya came first, not me. As I devoted my life to them, I became happy, _truly_ happy, for the first time since I was a little girl. I realized life wasn’t just about receiving love, but giving love, and I told myself the love I received from them was enough to make me happy. I told myself I didn’t want to date, even though Bran and Arya had long since given me their permission to do so.” Sansa forced her hands to stop fidgeting with her braid. She placed them at her sides, her hands forming into small fists as she continued. “I am liar, Jon. I was afraid that if I allowed myself to be attracted to someone once more, I would become the person I hated, and I didn’t want that, so I allowed fear to rule my life.”

Everything faded into the background as Jon saw nothing but Sansa standing before him. Despite everything that had happened, everything he had told himself, Jon couldn’t stop the pull he felt towards her. Even with her rumbled clothes and her heart lay bare before him, Sansa still looked luminous. She was the sun, and all Jon could do was revolve around her, hoping she would share a bit of her warmth with him.

Sansa took a small step forward. And then another.

“You make me not want to be afraid anymore.”

Her words went straight to Jon’s heart. Each one was a caress, repairing the earlier damage it felt.

“I like who I am with you.” Sansa reached out a pale hand. She gently swept aside an errant curl that had fallen into his eyes. Her touch felt like a cool breeze against his now fevered skin. “You are kind, and considerate, and quiet, but when you say something, I know it will be something important, and I find myself wanting to hear your thoughts more and more with every passing day. Your eyes shine when you see something or hear something that will make you happy, you are smart, you are gentle, you are my friend, and you…” Sansa gazed into his eyes. “You are Jon.” She whispered. “And I very much want to go to the Tulip Festival with on Sunday.”

Jon could not fight the smile that began to spread across his face. He brought a shaky palm to cup Sansa’s cheek. She leaned into his warmth, her eyes closing as she moved lightly against his hand. A small smile graced her lips. She looked happy and content. Jon leaned forward until his forehead was touching her own. They stayed that way for a few moments, simply enjoying the presence of the other, until Sansa opened her eyes to stare into Jon’s grey ones. Jon licked his lips, mesmerized by the emotion that came flooding through them.

Slowly, so slowly that Jon thought he might die from the anticipation, he brought his lips to Sansa’s. He was careful to apply the barest of pressure. He knew Sansa would not break, but he wanted this kiss to be a promise of things to come, a look into what their future might be like if they were together. He wanted her to feel how much he cared and longed for her.

He wanted her to feel how special she was to him.

Jon pulled his lips away from hers after a few moments. He wondered if Sansa could feel the pounding of his heart against his chest, or if she too was experiencing the warmth that was spreading throughout his veins.

Sansa’s blue eyes sparkled as she smiled like there was nothing else in the world but this shared moment between them. Jon traced the line of her bottom lip with her thumb, his lips turning up as a light blush stained Sansa’s cheeks.

“Sunday?” He asked softly. He hummed as Sansa placed a delicate kiss on his cheek.

“Sunday.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun (?) Fact: How Jon asking out Sansa went is essentially how it went when my husband asked me out for the first time. He mentioned going to a concert, and at first I thought he was telling me because he wanted to borrow my car (he didn't have one). After at least a minute of going back and forth with me not really understanding he was asking me out, he was finally super blunt about it. Unlike Sansa, however, I said yes pretty quickly once he told me what was up. 
> 
> I had originally planned to end this chapter after Sansa telling Jon no, but decided against it for two reasons. The first being this story, while heavy on the angst in the first chapter, is suppose to be happy. Nobody wants Jon sad, right? The second is because of the finale. I actually stopped watching the show after season 6 (from what I have gathered it was a good choice), but I know what happned the last two seasons and in the finale because my sister still watches it, and like you all I am a bit bothered that literally nobody got a happy ending. Not even Sansa, who wanted her family to be with her but in the end was left to rule alone. So I hope the end made anyone who was sad about last night a little happier. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading my friends! Take care, and please leave a comment if you like!


	6. Have Heart, My Dear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your comments, hits, and kudos! I am so happy that so many of you are loving my story. 
> 
> General Disclaimer: I am not Martin

Chapter Six: Have Heart, My Dear

 

“Ugh. Fucking kill me now.”

“What’s wrong?” Jon asked absentmindedly. He had three pairs of jeans laid out on his bed and was trying to figure out which one of them looked the least worn. “Sweets Crush kick your ass again?”

“No.” Pyp grumbled. He was sitting on Jon’s bed. “I just got another fucking e-mail from Professor Seaworth. This is the third one. Why can’t the old man just stop already and put me out of my fucking misery?”

Pyp flung himself dramatically on top of Jon’s jeans. He scowled, shoving his friend to the side. He picked up a pair of black jeans he had bought earlier in the year. They were a bit more fitted than he normally preferred, but it was the current style in Westeros and basically impossible to find anything that didn’t cling to his legs. According to Val, who he’d seen on campus while wearing them, they made his ass look amazing.

He supposed they could work.

“Have you still not met with him about your project yet?” Jon asked as he put his jeans on over his boxer briefs. “You know, the one that determines whether or not you actually get your master’s degree?”

“Of course not.” Pyp declared, as if it made every sense in the world to not meet with their advisor. “Professor Seaworth thinks I am an idiot for going into game developing. How do I know it is actually going to be a meeting, or an intervention with him and the other professors in our program to get me to change my mind?”

“It’s not, and you are an idiot.” Jon opened his closet to pick out a shirt to wear.

“Regardless, I don’t want to go. I have much more important things to do, like napping and thinking about folding my laundry.”

Jon didn’t say anything to that, allowing Pyp to wallow in his self-created conspiracy theories while he focused on bigger problems.

Jon had already met with Professor Seaworth at the beginning of the semester after receiving his own e-mail. Unlike Pyp, who wanted to develop and create building models for video games, Jon wanted to create luxury homes. His meeting with Professor Seaworth had gone well, but not as well as it could have been. Jon had shown some of his design plans for his project, and while Professor Seaworth had liked what he saw, he felt the home Jon was designing lacked heart. He challenged Jon to go beyond critical thinking and really discover what he felt would be difference between a house, and a home, especially when it came to houses of a particular size.

“Having any luck over there?” Pyp asked after a few minutes of silence.

Jon eyed his wardrobe critically as he moved his clothes back and forth on their hangers. His eyebrows knit together, and his lips pursed slightly outwards. There was a glaring problem staring back at him and he had no idea how to fix it.

“Why do I only own black?” He muttered.

“Because you are a fucking vampire. We’ve had this conversation before.” Pyp pointed out unhelpfully. He was laying down in Jon’s bed playing a game on his cell phone. “Besides, I think if you wore another color besides black, we would all die of shock. Thank you for thinking of the little people.”

“Ha, ha.” Jon deadpanned. He ran a hand through his damp curls. He had gone to the gym earlier to calm his nerves and taken an extra warm shower to soothe his aching muscles. “But seriously, what do you even wear to a Tulip Festival?”

“Sunscreen.”

“Seriously, man?”

“A hat.”

“Fucking hell.”

“Sunglasses are a must.”

Jon rubbed along his scar atop his right eyebrow as he fought the urge to bang his head against the wall. “Why do I even bother asking you?” Jon grumbled. “You dress like a fucking—”

“If you say I dress like a fucking runway model, you would be correct.” Pyp looked up from his cellphone. “I have six sisters. I know how to fucking dress myself even if I am a damn slob.”

“You are also extremely unhelpful.”

“Do you really want my help or are you just brooding to brood? Because either one is possible with you.”

Jon looked through his closet once more in the vain hope something would present itself and save him from asking Pyp for help. Unfortunately, all he saw where the same black shirts or black henley’s staring back at him.

Today would be his first date with Sansa. He knew without a doubt she would look beautiful; as far as Jon was concerned, Sansa would be the most attractive girl in the room if her hair was dirty and she was wearing a potato sack. For their date, Jon wanted to look like he belonged next to her. He didn’t necessarily want to forgo wearing black—if his wardrobe was any indication it was basically his signature color—and look like someone he wasn’t, but perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to have a few nice shirts and button downs in his preferred color for, what Jon hoped, would be future dates.

Jon hung his head in defeat. “I really want your help.” He sighed.

Pyp clapped his hands in delights. “Perfect!” He sounded like a youngling being told they could have desert before dinner. “I think my peach polo paired with my cream colored sweater will go great with your complexion.”

Jon scrunched up his face. “Okay…”

Pyp threw his head back and laughed at Jon’s look of horror. “I’m kidding.” Pyp pocketed his phone and climbed off the bed. “You can borrow my dark grey button down with the black chest pocket. It is a bit dressier than what you’ve got going on in your closet but not so much that it will make you uncomfortable.”

Pyp walked out of the room to grab the shirt in question.  Jon had seen him wear it once or twice before. It would be a bit tighter on him since Jon was more defined in the chest and shoulders than Pyp was, and while the shy part of him didn’t want to draw attention to his muscular physique—Pyp wasn’t the only one getting bigger from Olympic Weightlifting—the part of him that was physically attracted to Sansa did want to show off just a little. He had never caught her staring during class due to them both being focused on their workout, but he felt like today was a good chance to maybe show off his body a little just in case she had never noticed before.

He was already wearing the jeans that made his ass look great, so why not wear a shirt that would make his upper body look great as well?

“Please dear gods, do not let her think I look like a fucking tool.” He prayed to himself.

Jon pulled out an undershirt from his dresser. He started to put it on when the beeper in the kitchen began to go off.

“Fuck.” He muttered.

Jon quickly pulled the shirt over his head.

He didn’t want the cookies to burn.

XXXXX

Jon raised a slightly shaky hand to knock on the door, carefully balancing the tulips he had bought in the other. The cookies were placed safely in his messenger bag; he wanted to surprise Sansa with those later.

“Come in!” Bran’s voice yelled from the other side of the door.

Pyp patted Jon on the back before he had a chance to open the door. He was holding his favorite controller, wireless headset, and the newest edition of _Beyond the Wall_. Pyp and Jon would normally spend their Sunday afternoons playing online with a group of fellow students in their department. Bran had the same gaming system as them and would be taking Jon’s spot since he would be on a date and thus unable to play.

“Don’t worry, you are going to do fucking great.” He whispered to him. “Even if you ended up wearing your own shirt after all that complaining.”

“I told you I looked like a fucking idiot.” He whispered back.

“Whatever.”

Jon quickly glanced down at himself one last time. While the shirt Pyp offered him had looked good, it was just as tight as Jon had suspected it would be. That paired with the skinny jeans made him feel like he just wasn’t himself anymore. He had ended up deciding on a black checkered flannel and rolled the sleeves up to his elbows. It wasn’t too hot outside, and the constant breeze from the ocean would keep him cool enough.

Jon opened the door and the two of them walked inside. The apartment had been decorated since the last time Jon was inside. A large, L-shaped couch was nestled against the corner of the room opposite a modest sized television sitting atop an antique looking entertainment system that Jon knew Sansa had refurbished herself. It had been the topic of one of their lunch conversations. She had been excited to find the piece at a garage sale and had spent hours sanding off the old paint before painting it a rustic looking blue and giving it new handles that looked like seashells. On the wall over the couch hung a shelf with bold wooden letters spelling out their last name. Underneath was a large canvas print of the entire Stark family. Sansa’s parents smiled happily in the middle of the group. On either side of them were their children. They made a long line, holding hands and walking towards the camera through the snow-covered ground. Jon’s eyes were immediately drawn to Sansa. Her red hair flowed down her back until it reached her waist, and she wore blue coat that made her eyes pop. Jon knew Sansa hated who she was then, but regardless, he could not stop himself for grieving for the young, carefree girl in the portrait who did not know the difficult future that awaited her.

“Hey Jon, Pyp.” Bran said cheerfully. He had an older looking laptop balanced on his lap and was wheeling himself into the living room from the kitchen. “Sansa will just be another minute. She forgot to put on sunscreen.”

Pyp snapped his fingers together in triumph. “Nailed it!”

“Don’t worry about it.” Jon said at Bran’s questioning gaze.

“Okay…” Bran said slowly. “Anyway, should we start setting up the—"

“Damn it, Bran, stop with the chitchat and turn the computer around.” An impatient sounding voice said. “I want to see the ponce Sansa has decided to go out with.”

Bran winced. “Sorry, I tried to get her to hang up but she threatened to tell Sansa about how I was secretly donating blood in order to make some extra dragons to buy a necklace for her birthday two years ago.” His face turned serious. “She can never know.”

“Blah, blah, blah. Turn the computer around Bran or so help me—”

“Fine.” Bran said with exasperation. “Jon, Pyp, meet our sister, Arya Stark.”

Bran adjusted the laptop until the screen was facing Jon and Pyp. A rather fierce looking girl stared back at them. She looked more like than Bran than Sansa, her brown hair parted into two buns on either side of her head. Her lips turned downward into a frown. She assed them both with a critical eye.

“Well I guess the one holding the flowers who looks like a tool is the better of the two choices.” She raised a dark eyebrow as she looked at Pyp. “The skinny one looks like he could break in half at any moment.”

Jon’s shoulders sagged and his head bowed slightly. He tried to keep his face neutral, but it was difficult. After all the work he had gone through to look nice for his date, it seemed like he had still come up short.  

“Arya!” Bran scolded. “Jon is not a tool.” He gave Jon a reassuring smile. “He’s a good guy.”

“Whatever.” Arya sniffed dismissively. “I’m just calling it like I see it.”

Pyp shifted next to Jon. He watched him from the corner of his eye as his friend placed all his weight onto his right foot and cocked his head to the side.

“Wow, Bran.” Pyp said with fake innocence. “I had no idea your other sister was a bit of a bi—”

“I’m Jon.” Jon interrupted quickly. He didn’t want his first experience with Sansa’s sister to end with Pyp insulting her, even though she had done the same to them. “And this is my roommate, Pyp.”

Jon elbowed Pyp to encourage him to wave to Arya. His own wave ended up looking like more of a sweeping arc, however, once he realized Pyp was about to flip Arya off. He quickly grabbed his hand and pushed it back down. Pyp was fiercely loyal, and it didn’t surprise Jon he was attempting to defend his honor, especially after all the stress Jon had gone through to look nice for his date.  While Jon appreciated the gesture, but he didn’t want to make their awkward situation any worse.

“Sansa deserves the best. The. Best.” Arya said, ignoring Jon’s efforts at introducing himself. “If you so much as—”

“Well, I guess it is good thing that Jon is the fucking best.” Pyp said with narrowed eyes. “Your incorrect bullshit assumption of him based only on his looks makes you look quite the fool, don’t you think?”

Arya pursed her lips together. “Don’t interrupt me.”

“Stop behaving like a fucking brat towards people you don’t know and maybe I will.” Pyp countered.

“Listen, asshole, don’t assume—”

“What’s that Sansa? You need your laptop to look up directions to the festival?” Bran called out, doing the very thing Arya had just told Pyp not to do.

 “I didn’t hear Sansa.” Arya said with a raised eyebrow.

Jon hadn’t either.

“Be right there, sis!” Bran called out again in an attempt to keep up the ruse. He turned the laptop back around so Arya could face him once more. “Time to go Arya. Love you and talk to you soon. Bye!” He said quickly.

“Don’t you dare turn off this call Bran. I didn’t hear Sansa yelling, and I haven’t spoken to Jon—”

Bran pushed the laptop down without hesitation, effectively ending his video chat with his sister. “Arya’s really is a nice person. I swear.” He said a bit sheepishly.

Pyp scoffed with disbelief while Jon chose to remain silent. He didn’t think Arya seemed very nice at all, but he was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt due to her relationship with Sansa and Bran.

“She is very protective of us, especially Sansa.” Bran explained. He rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know how much you know, and I won’t go into detail since it isn’t my story to tell, but Sansa has been in some bad relationships in the past. Arya doesn’t want her to get hurt again.” He looked at Jon. “I tried to tell her earlier that you would never do anything to harm Sansa, but, well…” He shrugged. “Arya lives far away from us. Not being able to be here puts her a bit on edge.”

Jon nodded his head. It was as he suspected. “I really like Sansa, Bran.” His cheeks turned pink. It was one thing to talk to Pyp about his feelings for Sansa, but it was completely different to admit them to her brother. “She’s incredible.”

Bran beamed, happy with his words. “I think so too.” He agreed.

Pyp started to set up the game. Bran helped him, leaving Jon to resume his perusal of the family pictures that decorated the walls of the living room. There were so many of them. The most recent looked to be one of Sansa, Bran, and Arya in front of a house that looked like it could have easily come from the pages of a magazine. It was a multistory red brick home with a white fence lining the wrap around porch. Flowers of every color grew from the pots that were placed along the steps. Bran was sitting in his chair in front of the house with Sansa and Arya kneeling at either side of him. They all looked sad but happy at the same time.

“We took it right before Bran and I moved here.”

Jon jumped at the sound of Sansa’s voice. He turned around, his jaw going slack at the sight of her. She was wearing a floral dress that hugged her chest and waist before flaring out just a few inches above her knee. While not indecent in anyway, it showed a modest amount of cleavage due to the v-shape of the collar. Jon had to mentally force himself to keep from staring at the soft swells of Sansa’s breasts. He had never seen so much of her chest before due to Sansa always wearing shirts or blouses that came to just above her collar bone. He clutched the hand that wasn’t holding the tulips into a fist to keep himself from doing something stupid like caressing her soft and delicate looking skin.

“You look… Wow.” Jon fumbled. He was at a loss for words to adequately describe just how wonderful she looked. He cleared his throat. “You’re beautiful.” He said simply, holding out his hand to offer her the tulips.

Sansa said shyly. She took the tulips from him. “You’re beautiful—no, gorgeo—handsome!”

 A soft flush began to creep up Sansa’s neck. Jon wanted to peek to see if it was spreading up from her chest but kept his grey eyes resolutely on Sansa’s blue ones. He was not an animal.

“What I mean to say, is you look very handsome, Jon.” She let out a short, breathy laugh that hinted at her nervousness. “I like your shirt. It looks good on you.”

“Thank you, Sansa.” Jon said, each word laced with sincerity. He felt a warm calm settle over him. He had stayed true to himself, and it had worked for the only person whose opinion he really cared about.

Sansa walked into the kitchen. Jon followed her, grateful to be away from Pyp and Bran’s failed attempts at subtle ease dropping.

“I wanted to look good for our date.” He explained.

Sansa eyes turned wide with surprise. “Really?” She clasped the tulips to her chest. “You wanted to look good? For me?”

The hopeful tone in Sansa’s voice reminded Jon of their conversation when Sansa had confessed to him that she had dated nothing but fucking assholes who had mistreated her.

“I did.” He admitted. “You always look so wonderful, and I wanted to look the same for you.”

Sansa face lit up with a bright smile. She gently placed the tulips onto the countertop as if they were the most precious things in the world to her before throwing herself into Jon’s arms without warning. She was a bit taller than him due to her platform shoes, but Jon found he quite liked it; due to her few inches on him she was able to snuggle her head into his shoulder easily.

“You doing that, it means a lot to me.” She whispered.

Jon raised his hand to the back of Sansa’s head. Her hair was down and flowing in natural waves. It came down to her mid back, a good few inches shorter than what it was in the family picture. He caressed the silky strands.

“Of course.” He whispered back just as gently.

Sansa placed a delicate kiss on his cheek before pulling away. She walked over to the sink and got a crystal vase from the cabinet. It looked expensive. Jon guessed it was a family heirloom.

“Was that your old house you were standing in front of?” Jon asked, bringing up the picture he had been looking at a few moments ago.

“It was.” Sansa poured some water into the vase. She began to snip the ends of the tulips to help them fit inside. “Everything was so hurried during our move and Bran wasn’t able to leave the hospital until well after we sold the house. We were never able to take any pictures in front of it. At first it was too painful to go back, but over time, after we were able to process our grief, we would occasionally drive by our old house and reminisce. When we decided to move away from Winterfell, none of us were sure if we would ever go back, and it felt right to take a picture in front of the home we all grew up in. An older couple own’s it now. They were nice to take a picture of us in front of it and let us walk through the inside and say goodbye.”

“Was it hard?”

Sansa tilted her head to the side as she considered the question. “Yes and no. Yes, because there were so many memories there, but no because it wasn’t really our home anymore. The walls are different, the rooms are different, even the smell is different. It will always have a place in my heart regardless of what it looks like now, but I realized while we were there that I had already said good-bye to it a long time ago. We all had.”

Sansa placed the tulips in the jar. She touched their petals softly before picking up the vase and placing them in the middle of the small dining table.

“To be honest it was actually harder to say good-bye to our crappy, tiny, two-bedroom, one-bathroom apartment.”

“Why was that?”

Sansa leaned against the countertop next to Jon. “It represented that we survived. Nobody thought we were going to make it after the accident. Hell, not even I was sure those first three years. That apartment was the first thing we purchased together. We scrimped and saved every month to pay rent.” Sansa laughed softly. “You should have seen us. We took the quickest showers and used lamps and candles instead of turning on the lights just to save a few dragons. We learned how to rely on each other there. I learned how to be a good person there. But, more than that, we all learned how to really love each other. Arya thinks I’m silly, but I really did have a bit of a breakdown when we shut the door the last time.”

“Do you think you would ever like to own a house?” Jon asked. All his life he and his mother only ever lived in apartments. They always tried to save enough for a down payment on a house, but something always came up, and they were never quite able to make it. Still, regardless of size or space, Lyanna had always managed to make wherever they lived warm and cozy.

“Someday.” Sansa rested her hand on her cheek. “Nothing too big, though. When we went back to our old house, I was struck by how massive it was. I don’t know how my mom ever kept it clean. I think I would like something small, with enough space for us all to have our own rooms and at least two bathrooms so we don’t constantly have to share. I would love a good size yard though so I can have my own garden and grow my own fruits and vegetables. And a bright, yellow door.”

“Why yellow?”

Sansa’s blue eyes sparked. “Because it represents joy and happiness. I want everyone to feel that way before they walk inside.”

Jon smiled. “I think that sounds like a good place.”

 “You would know, Mr. Masters of Architecture.” Sansa said as she playfully nudged Jon’s shoulder.

Jon laughed. His thoughts turned briefly to Professor Seaworth’s challenge to design a home, and not a house. Jon had thought that a house only became a home once the decorations were put up and the furniture was moved in, but listening to Sansa describe where she wanted to live, Jon wondered if maybe the design of the house could make it a home as well.

Sansa walked to the refrigerator. Unlike the walls of the living room, it was covered with cards and letters from her sister. “I hope you don’t mind, but I packed us a picnic.” She pulled out a light blue ice box that was made to look like a picnic basket. “It isn’t much. Just some chicken sandwiches, fruit salad, homemade potato chips, and chocolate chip cookies for dessert.” She set it down on the counter and reached inside once more to retrieve a tall thermos. “And some fresh lemonade.”

Jon raised both his eyebrows. “That is definitely more than ‘not much’.”

Sansa blushed. She looked down at her hands, her hair covering some of her face. “I really like to cook. I guess I may have gotten a little carried away.”

“No.” Jon said quickly, not wanting to see her embarrassed or sad. “I think you got carried away just the right amount. It all sounds delicious and I bet it tastes just as good. Thank you, Sansa, for making lunch.”

Sansa raised her eyes. She took a strand of hair and tucked it behind her ear. “You’re welcome, Jon.”

Jon reached into his messenger bag. “Plus, it looks like great minds think alike.” He said as he pulled out the container of his own chocolate chip cookies. “They are my mom’s recipe. We used to make them all the time while I lived at home.” Jon tapped his fingers on top of the plastic container. “I have to warn you, Sansa, I may not be that great of a cook or baker, but I make a really good cookie.”

Sansa’s eyes shined with mirth. “Well, I guess we will just have to see whose is better, won’t we?”

Jon grinned. “We shall.” He said with a single nod of his head. “But I must warn you, I do love a good competition.”

Sansa took a step towards him. “So do I.”

Jon met her step with one of his own. “I don’t like to lose.”

_Step._

“I make a good chocolate chip cookie.”

_Step._

“Not better than mine.”

_Step._

“We’ll see.”

Jon silently closed the last of the remaining steps between them. He watched as Sansa’s eyes moved from his down to his lips. He ran his tongue along his bottom lip, not altogether sure if it was because of the desire he suddenly felt towards her as the tips of her breasts just barely touched his chest or because of how dry his mouth had just become. He took in a shuddering breath.

“Jon?”

Sansa’s breath ghosted along his face.

“Yes?”

“I would like to kiss you again, if that is all right.”

A soft moan escaped the back of his throat. He took her waist into both of his hands. Slightly angling his mouth upward—he could really get used to this height difference—Jon brought himself—

“I am NOT allowing your sister to join our gaming group! You text her back right now and tell her it isn’t fucking happening!”

Jon brought his forehead against Sansa’s and groaned amidst the sounds of Bran begging Pyp to let Arya play with them, Pyp refusing, Bran swearing Pyp would grow to like her, and Pyp’s even more vehement refusal at the mere implication he would ever like Arya Stark

Sansa sighed.

Their moment was lost.

“I guess we better get going.” She said as she pulled away from Jon.

Jon nodded. He leaned forward and gave her a quick kiss on the lips. It was not enough but would have to do.

As Sansa placed her hand in his own as they walked out of the complex and towards the car, Jon couldn’t stop the slight upturn of his lips at the thought of Sansa asking him to kiss her.

She wanted him, and he wanted her, and everything about that felt right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact: I forgot to mention this in the first chapter, but the inspiration for this story came while the song It'll Be All Right by Dean Lewis was playing in my car on my way to work. Now every time I hear it, I always think of this story!
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading! Have a great week my friends!!!
> 
>  
> 
> Please comment if you like.


	7. Taking Care of You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your comments, hits, and kudos!
> 
> General Disclaimer: I am not Martin.

Taking Care of You 

 

“I don’t look too stupid, do I?”

Jon tried desperately to hide his huge grin as he and Sansa walked hand in hand towards the entrance of Pyke Castle. He didn’t want Sansa to think he was trying not to laugh at her since she was so obviously self-conscious, but he couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face no matter how hard he tried. He didn’t want to laugh at her, however, he simply wanted to enjoy taking her in without her worrying about what he was thinking.

 “Nope.” Jon told her honestly and without a moment’s hesitation. “I think you look adorable.”

“Perfect.” Sansa muttered. She twirled the ends of her hair in equal parts agitation and embarrassment. “I am twenty-three years old and I look like a child.”

“Nah. I think you look perfect.”

Jon playfully bumped her shoulder with his own. He was hardly ever this happy and carefree, but it was hard to hold on to his normally broody personality when he was getting everything he had dared to hope for over the past month: a date with Sansa Stark, the girl he was pretty sure he was falling in love with.

Sansa turned to face him. He could see the hint of her eyebrows raising up her forehead, though they were all but obscured by her large, wide-brimmed hat and sunglasses that seemed to cover half of her face.

“Really?” She asked, her voice tinged with a bit of doubt.

“Really.” Jon confirmed. He lowered his own sunglasses—he had kept his on to help Sansa not feel so embarrassed even though she hadn’t asked him to—and gave her a little wink. “I would never lie to you.”

“That is your wink?” The corners of Sansa’s lips turned up into a playful smile.

It was Jon’s turn to pout. “It is a lot harder to move facial muscles than you think.” He grumbled.

Sansa reached out. She placed a soft finger against his lips and pushed them back in so they no longer puckered. “It’s perfect.” She whispered. “Promise.” She brushed his shoulder playfully like he had done to her moments earlier.

They walked the rest of the way to the castle in companionable silence. Jon was afraid thing would be awkward between them after Friday night, but he was happy to find there was no unsure glances or unsure touches. They both seemed confident in their affections for each other.

There was a sizeable crowd milling about the central atrium of the castle where the front desk and gift shop were located. Jon had expected as much due to it being the last day of the festival. Before he could stop himself, he immediately felt himself tense up, despite the fact he had been mentally preparing himself for such an occurrence. Jon had never been one for big crowds. All the people walking about and the never-ending noise of conversation always made him nervous. Jon preferred to be physically close to people to knew.

“Nervous?” Sansa asked. She had taken off her sunglasses once they entered the castle. There were hints of concern in her blue irises.

 “A little. I have never been one for big crowds, but I can handle it for a few hours. I wanted to come here with you. If was I worried, I would have taken you somewhere else.” Jon gave her a reassuring smile. “I will be fine.”

“Do you think you will be better once we get outside? It is pretty crowded in here.”

Jon looked around. The information desk sat in the middle of the large circular room. To the front of them were stairs leading to the second floor galleries, while on either side of the stairs were the entryways to the castle’s gift shop. Next to those were large wooden doors that led to the outside gardens. Jon had already purchased their tickets, but they would need to drop off their icebox at the coat check so they wouldn’t have to carry it around the whole time. Food wasn’t normally allowed in the castle, but since the festival was put on for the community, the staff had set up picnic benches and sectioned off grassy areas for families to encourage them to eat, stay a little longer and enjoy the flowers. There would even be a band later in the afternoon playing music.

“Why don’t I go drop off our food and meet you outside?” Sansa gave his hand a comforting squeeze. “See you soon.” She pointed to the doorway to their left to let him know where to wait before heading off downstairs to the bag check with the ice box before Jon could protest.  

Jon felt his entire body radiate with gratitude and affection for Sansa as he watched her go. She was able to tell he was uncomfortable by his body language alone. Instead of complaining that his behavior could make things more difficult for her or impede her enjoyment of their day, she took care of him without thought. He only hoped he could do the same for her. Sansa deserved to be cherished and taken care of, and Jon was more than up for the task.

Jon headed towards the gardens. He placed his hands in his pockets to help him make sure he didn’t accidently touch anyone.

The view outside the castle was breathtaking. Pyke Castle sat atop a large hill directly connected to the ocean below. Jon imagined it must have been quite the sight for foreign invaders with its high menacing towers and thick stone structure. Like most castles built at the time, it had been built for defense instead of luxury. Renovations were done to the castle’s infrastructure once it was decided to convert the it into an art museum. Pyke Castle was now one of the premier museum’s in Westeros, showcasing the art of some of the world’s most famous artists with wings dedicated entirely to ancient art from Westeros.

“Wow.” Sansa’s northern accented voice breathed behind him. “This is beautiful.”

Jon hummed his agreement as she came to stand next to him. They watched the waves crash along the shoreline, each caught up in the splendor.

“We used to go to the beach every year as a family. We had a beach house in Kings Landing we would stay at.” Sansa chucked. “You should have seen us. My mother would have us bathing in sunscreen like it was some sort of religion and father would always complain about how hot it was. Every time we would turn around Rickon was inventing new ways to try and break his leg, Robb and Arya were fighting over the best sandwich Mum had packed even though they were all the same, Bran would have his head in a book barely talking to anyone, Theon was trying to impress girls with his beach volleyball skills, and I was always in denial that I would finally get a tan and not burn to a crisp.” Sansa smiled ruefully and touched the brim of her hat. “As you can see, I finally learned my lesson.”

“Couldn’t overcome the curse of the redheads?” Jon teased.

“Nope.” Sansa reached into the pocket of her dress and grabbed her phone. “I must warn you Jon, I like to take pictures. Not the overly photo shopped and staged ones you see posted all over social media, but real pictures of the all the things I have done with my siblings since I started to care for them.” She turned around and held up her phone so the ocean would be in the background. “Now it is your turn to be in them. I hope you are up for the challenge.”

“Always.”

Jon turned around to face Sansa’s camera. She threw her arm around his shoulders and brought her head down to his until they were touching. The wide brim of her hat covered them both. Sansa didn’t remove her sunglasses, so Jon didn’t either.

“Smile!” She chirped happily.

Jon felt the corners of his eyes crinkle as he smiled into the camera. So many times, Jon had forced himself to look happy for pictures. He was not a naturally bright person; he was realistic which was oftentimes perceived as being negative. Having lunch with Sansa, and seeing her at the gym, hadn’t changed any of that, but he found himself smiling more at the little moments that would seem normal to anyone else but to him meant something. Everyone took pictures to help them remember places they had gone or things they had done. There was nothing earth shattering about it. But, today, Sansa had wanted him in the picture, had wanted to remember her time with him. It warmed Jon’s heart and made him smile without force as she clicked the small button on her screen to take the shot.

Sansa hummed in delight as she looked at their photo. “Would you like me to send it to you?” She asked, thumb hovering over the share button.

“Of course.” Jon said.

Sansa beamed at his answer before pressing send. Taking his hand once more, the two began to walk towards the direction of the gardens.

Sansa squealed in delight when she saw the tulips. Jon chuckled at her enthusiasm. The tulips were everywhere, lining the walkway and standing in neat rows with dirt in between them so people could walk amongst the flowers that decorated the gardens. Every color imaginable was present. Jon snapped a picture of Sansa as she knelt to breath in the blue colored ones that matched her dress. He hair spilled around her shoulders and she looked as beautiful as the flowers that surrounded her.

“Sansa?” A feminine voice called out.

Jon turned his head to see a young woman walking towards them in heels so high Jon was unsure how she wasn’t falling over. She was wearing a light purple floral cocktail dress that left little to the imagination about the curves she possessed, and her brown hair was curled to perfection.

“Sansa Stark? Is that really you?” Her accent was haughty and refined, and Jon guessed she was from somewhere in the South.

Sansa’s face immediately turned into a deep frown at the sound of the voice breaking her out of her reverie. She took in shaky breath to calm herself. Jon reached out to lightly touch her shoulder to let her know he was there, if she needed him.

“Yes, it’s me.” Sansa stood after a moment’s hesitation, almost as if she was contemplating lying and saying she was someone else. She turned around slowly and removed her sunglasses in the process so she could look the girl in the eye. “Hello Margaery.” She said dully. Gone was her earlier happiness. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“I’ll say!” The girl, Margaery, gushed. She was either ignorant to Sansa’s lack of enthusiasm or uncaring. “I can’t believe I’m running into you here of all places. It has been years since our freshman year at KLU.”

All at once Sansa’s demeanor clicked into place. Margaery was a person from her past, a time when Sansa didn’t like who she was or what she did, and now Margaery was here to remind her of that person she was trying so desperately not to be. Jon raised his hand to place it around Sansa’s hip for comfort, refusing to let himself overthink the move. They had just kissed on Friday. It was one thing to hold hands and touch the top of her shoulder, but caressing Sansa’s hip felt incredibly intimate. Jon was afraid it might be too much physical contact for her when they hadn’t even defined what their relationship was, but he would never know unless he tried —it didn’t seem like the right time to verbally ask—and he knew Sansa would brush him aside if she did not want him there.

Jon breathed a silent sigh of relief when Sansa leaned into him as soon as his hand made contact. He rubbed little circles against her dress with his thumb to try to ease some of her tension.

“Yes, it has.” Sansa replied. Her eyes darted about, and Jon got the impression she was trying to form some sort of exit strategy. “Jon and I just arrived, and I’m afraid we need to—"

“There you are Margaery!” A loud voice shouted towards them, effectively endings Sansa’s hope of escape. “I thought we agreed to meet at the—Oh! Hello Sansa! Fancy seeing you here.” Theon Greyjoy appeared almost out of thin air. He was beaming his ridiculously attractive smile and wearing a tailored suit coat and pants with a pink v-neck shirt underneath.

Pyp would have been impressed with his trendiness.

Theon gave Sansa a wink that made Jon’s eyes roll behind his sunglasses. “Or is it?” Theon said with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

Jon could not help but think Theon was flirting with Sansa even if he was more of a brother to her. Though, to be fair, Jon supposed Theon seemed like the type of guy who hit on anything that moved.

“Hello, Theon.” Sansa sounded a bit more cheerful to be addressing her pseudo-brother than Margaery, a fact the girl across from them had picked up on if the way she was now clutching her wine glass was anything to go by. Her eyes briefly flitted between Theon and Margaery. “On a date?”

Theon waved a hand in front of his face dismissively. “No.” He replied breezily. Margaery deflated by the barest of degrees at his easy dismissal. “I am actually on the board for the Tulip Festival. Sweetling is a major donor. I am just doing my duty and showing her around for the last day of the festival. Her family, the Tyrells, provide the flowers and Margaery is here as their representative. How do you two know each other?”

“We went to KLU together before Sansa dropped out.” Margaery explained before Sansa had a chance to respond. “We were dormmates.”

“Oh.” Theon said. He took a sip of the beer he was holding, his eyes turning wide mid drink as his brain fully processed what Margaery was saying. “Oh.” He said again, this time drawing out the sound a bit more. He gave Sansa a quick look of understanding before turning towards Margaery. “Say, Margaery, don’t you think we should—"

 “Enjoying the tulips?” Margaery asked. She seemed to be the only person desperate to keep the conversation going despite the awkward atmosphere. “I remember how much your loved winter roses. I know these aren’t the same, but the blue color is quite similar.”

“Sansa only enjoyed winter roses because Robb and I would use them as bribe to get her to forgive us when we were children. For whatever reason Sansa never did appreciate our teasing or pranks.” Theon joked in an effort to diffuse the escalating tension coming from Sansa and directed towards Margaery.

“If you two hadn’t been so mean, maybe you wouldn’t have had to bribe me.” Sansa replied. She gave Theon the barest of smiles. It reminded Jon all the times he forced himself to be happy for a picture.

“Touché, Sassy, touché” Theon saluted her with the tip of his beer bottle. Margaery opened her mouth to speak once more, but Theon, seeing her out of the corner of his eye, hurried to keep talking. “Jon, right?” He asked, turning his attention to Jon. “The guy from upstairs that Sansa has been talking about every family dinner for the past—"

“Thank you, Theon, for making sure to embarrass me since Arya isn’t here for the pleasure.” Sansa cut in. Her cheeks and neck were turning a bright shade of red, and Jon doubted it was from the sun.

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about Arya. She already texted me this morning after Bran so unkindly broke off their video chat. He didn’t think Arya was being very nice to poor Jon or his roommate who, according to her, she is going to destroy on some video game this afternoon.” Theon smiled triumphantly. “So you see, she has already embarrassed you, not me.”

Sansa looked at Jon is mortification. “You spoke to Arya?”

Jon didn’t like where this conversation was going. “Yes.” He said slowly.  

“What did she say?” Sansa demanded. “And before you even tell me, I apologize for all of it.”

“She was…” Jon winced. He was grateful Sansa couldn’t see the movement through his sunglasses. “Nice?”

“Liar. Arya is never nice.” Sansa retorted.

Theon nodded. “It’s true. Arya is a bit of a brat. She is only nice when she wants to be, and I know for a fact she wouldn’t be nice to you since she is protective of Sansa. Chicks before dicks and all that.”

Margaery coughed behind her hand.

Jon rubbed the back of his neck. He scrambled for an answer to Sansa’s question that would appease her but not make Arya dislike him even more than she already did.

“Arya is your sister, right? The one you were always fighting with?” Margaery interrupted, taking Jon’s silence as an opportunity to get back into the conversation. “It sounds like you two are getting along better now.”

“I grew up.” Sansa said. Her tone wasn’t necessarily defensive, but it lacked her usual warmth. “We both did.”

Margaery’s eyes narrowed slightly, and her lips formed into a thin line. Jon took this as his que to try and leave. While Sansa and Theon had failed to end the conversation, perhaps he would have better luck.

“It was good to see you again, Theon, and nice to meet you Margaery, but Sansa and I better get going. We don’t want to miss anything.” Jon said politely.

Today was Sansa’s day to be happy and to do something for herself. It was clear being around Margaery made her sad and a bit agitated. Jon didn’t know what happened between the two women, and while he doubted Sansa needed to be rescued from the conversation, it was clear she didn’t want to be there. Jon was resolved to do what he could to get her out of it.

“Us too.” Theon said quickly. “We have stuff.”

“Stuff?” Margaery asked. She raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow. “What stuff?”

“Just stuff.” Theon started to maneuver Margaery in the opposite direction Jon and Sansa were facing. “Have a nice time at the festival. Take lots of pictures and all that.”

Margaery dug her heels into the stone cobbled floor before Theon could take another step. “Sansa, I fly back home in two days. I would love to get together and catch up. Let me give you my number and you can—”

“I’m busy with work. Sorry.” Sansa said, effectively turning her down.

“Oh. Well, maybe I could—”

“Jon and I really have to run. It was nice to you again, Margaery. Take care.”

Sansa waved both Theon and Margaery goodbye without another word. She started guiding Jon in the opposite direction of where the other group was headed. Her pace wasn’t necessarily brisk but it wasn’t slow and leisurely either.

“I’m sorry Jon.” Sansa apologized. “It’s hard for me to see people who only knew me in college. I don’t like remembering—"

“Sansa! Wait!”

Jon and Sansa turned around. Margaery was running towards them as quickly as physically possible in her tight dress and strappy high heels.

Sansa’s shoulder shrugged with defeat. “Yes?” She said flatly.

“I’m sorry. About everything.” Margaery breathed out. She looked like she was on the verge of crying. “I’m just, really, really sorry. I wasn’t your friend; I was a bitch. I understand if you never forgive me. If this is the last time I see you, I wanted you to know I am not proud of what I did to you. In fact, I am ashamed and disgusted by it. I was stupid, and selfish, and awful, and I am so sorry that you were the victim of all my flaws. I’m sorry for everything. I swear I am not that person anymore.” She shoved a business card into Sansa’s hand. “This is my number. If you ever decide you want to talk, please do not hesitate to call me. I would love to be friends, true friends, if such a thing is possible. Be well, Sansa.”

Sansa stood, speechless, as Margaery turned on her expensive heel and began to walk back towards Theon. She took her glass of wine from him and finished it off in one gulp before leading him back inside the castle. From behind her, Theon caught Sansa’s eye, mouthing to her if was all right while gesturing for her to give him either a thumbs up or thumbs down. Sansa gave him a small thumbs up to assure him everything was fine before motioning to him to stay with Margaery.

Jon quietly led Sansa towards the garden sculptures in the middle of the castle grounds. The marble and bronze pieces were accentuated with different types of tulip arrangements in large deco-style pots or with the flowers fitted onto the sculptures themselves.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Jon asked tentatively after a few moments of silence. “You don’t have to, of course, I would never make you do anything you didn’t want to, but I thought it might be nice to maybe, I don’t know, talk through your thoughts? Or something.” Jon bit down lightly on his cheek to stop himself from continuing to ramble like an idiot.

Sansa stared silently at the sculpture in front of them. There were two girls sitting next to each other on a large swing. Their legs were extended out in front of them and their heads thrown back in laughter. Though it was a statue, the artist had been able to capture the feel of their movement. A bunch of tulips laid in each one of their laps.

“Margaery and I weren’t friends. I thought we were at the time, but looking back, she was just using me to get what she wanted. While we were both social climbers from wealthy families that liked the connections the other could offer, I also thought we liked each other because of who were, and our socioeconomic backgrounds and similar desires was just a plus. I was wrong. All we ever did was gossip, party, and see who could get the most eligible guys on campus to notice them. Even if I hadn’t dropped out to care for Arya and Bran, I probably would have gotten kicked out anyway. I barely went to class and failed most of my tests.” Sansa let out a hollow laugh. “Gods, I was so fucking superficial. I wish I could go back in time and tell myself, don’t go you idiot; family, real friends, and being able to provide for yourself and other, that’s what matters, not elevating your social status.”

“You were a teenager, Sansa. Everyone makes stupid decisions when they were teenagers.”

“Did you?”

“Well…” Jon bit his bottom lip. In truth, he hadn’t don’t anything stupid during his high school years. He was too busy working to help his mom provide for them. “Not precollege, no, but I have done plenty of stupid things since Pyp introduced himself as my dormmate freshman year.”

Sansa gave him a disbelieving look. “I don’t believe you.” She pointed a finger at his chest. “You, Jon Snow, are way too honorable.”

Jon lowered her finger and wrapped their hands together. “Brace yourself, Sansa Stark, because I am Green Man, protestor of overpriced books and thief-at-large for helping to steal the school’s mascot. It is harder to steal pig’s blood from the science building than you would think.”

Sansa gasped. “You are not!”

Jon nodded his head seriously. “I am. We also stole the container of strawberry syrup from the cafeteria to make the mascot look like it was doused in blood. It is surprisingly difficult to pillage the biology department for pig’s blood. Pyp wanted to wear the green man costume, but he was worried I wouldn’t take look-out duties seriously and let him get arrested when the police showed up, so I got stuck with handing out the flyers while he perched himself on top of the Urragon Tower with binoculars.”

Sansa threw her head back, her laughter surrounding them. “I cannot believe it! How did Pyp ever convince you?”

Jon guided them towards the next sculpture. “That is another story for another time.”

“It better be.” Sansa giggled.

Sansa leaned into his shoulder, the brim of her hat ticking his forehead, as they took in the next sculpture.

“The incident Margaery was referring to had to do with a boy, Joffrey Lannister. I met him at freshman orientation. He was blonde haired, blue eyed, and extremely wealthy. I thought he was this prince that was going to save me from the uncultured North and make all my dreams come true. I was wrong. He was a nightmare. He belittled me, hit me, and manipulated me into do things to him. If I didn’t, he would tell the whole school I was nothing more than a slut.”

Jon’s jaw ticked in anger. Nobody should be treated the way Sansa had been.

“Every time I came home, swearing to myself I would no longer date Joffrey, Margaery convinced me to stay with him. She told me I needed to use my sexuality to get him to give me what I wanted. I tried to, but all it did was make me feel fake and disgusting; it just wasn’t me. She kept pushing, and I kept trying, and Joffrey kept treating me the same. Everything was such a mess.”

“Why did you keep listening to her advice if you were so unhappy?”

“I was convinced Margaery cared for me. A match with Joffrey was a big deal and Margaery knew that. I thought she was helping. In reality, she was keeping Joffrey close so she could seduce him for herself. Hours before the party where I found out my family died, I found them having sex in our room. They didn’t even stop when I walked in. Joffrey looked at me, laughed, and kept going. Margaery didn’t even say anything. I felt so betrayed. I went to the party, got drunk, and found some guy to make out with. I didn’t even care when he groped me. I just wanted to feel desirable. I…” Sansa sniffled. “Well, you know the rest. And now here she is, years later, reminding me of who I was, asking me to forgive her because she has changed.” Sansa paused as she contemplated her next words. “If I really am a different person than I was back then, I should forgive her for what she did; but I don’t know if I can or if I even want to.” Sansa looked down at her feet. “You must think I am horrible.”

“No, I don’t.” Jon said emphatically. “It’s tough forgiving people who have wronged you.”

Sansa smoothed down the imaginary wrinkled in her dress. “It isn’t even about her sleeping with Joffrey. He was horrible. It hurt at the time, but I don’t care about that anymore. What hurts is the way she manipulated me. She made me think she cared for me but she didn’t. She used me. And a small part of me is scared that maybe I used her too, and I am not as innocent in everything as I like to think.”

Jon furrowed his brow and rubbed his lips back and froth against each other. He was deep in thought. The feelings Sansa was experiencing were all things Jon had gone through before. He had lain awake many night, wondering if Ygritte had ever truly cared for him, and if perhaps he had known all along that things weren’t right between them but had purposely kept a blind eye to it because he wanted so desperately to have a meaningful relationship with someone. Had they both used each other to get what they wanted? Ygritte said she had done as much when she was breaking up with him, but Jon still wasn’t sure if he had done the same as well. He wasn’t sure if he would ever have the answer or if it even mattered since the outcome of their relationship wouldn’t change.

“I think…” Jon hesitated. He could give her a whole speech on the importance of forgiveness, but it didn’t feel right. Sansa needed to know somebody understood her and her pain. “I think life sucks sometimes.”

Sansa cocked her head to the side. Jon took it as a sign to continue.

“Living isn’t always easy, and forgiveness and moving on is hard. Knowing you should forgive someone and actually doing it is difficult. Is it worth is? Yes. Is it hard as hell? Yes.” Jon shrugged his shoulders. “Sometimes people are cruel to us, and sometimes we are cruel to them. Forgiveness, letting go and becoming a better person, living a life with kindness so people don’t have to experience what we went through, that’s what makes life better. Knowing all that doesn’t change how hard it is to get there. I think it is okay you don’t know what to do and aren’t sure if you want to forgive Margaery. She really hurt you. The fact you are even considering forgiving her, I think, is a good sign. It means you want to do what is right even if it won’t be easy.”

“You don’t…” Sansa bit her lower lip. “You don’t think I am awful.”

Jon too her hand into his own. “I think you are a human.”

Sansa squeezed his hand. “Thank you, Jon.”

They sat in contemplative silence for a few minutes. Jon gave Sansa the space she needed to think through everything she had just experienced. It wasn’t how he thought their date would go, but he wasn’t upset by the turn of events. He wanted to help Sansa; if their discussion had given her even a little bit of the comfort she had given him earlier when she had insisted he go outside, then he would go home with the knowledge that, in his opinion, their first date had been a success.

Sansa stood up, Jon following her eagerly. She led them to the next sculpture. It was of two lovers holding each other in a passionate embrace, the woman’s back arched so that she could reach the man’s lips in a kiss. They both wore a crown of tulips in their hair. Neither one had clothes on. Jon wasn’t sure if the sculpture was meant to be erotic due to their nudity, but he found himself not thinking of sex, but of the depth of love and never ending affection captured in that one moment.

“You are full of surprises, Jon Snow.”

Jon’s mouth opened at Sansa’s sudden declaration. “Am I?” He said, more than a little surprised. Nobody had ever said that about him.

“You are.” Sansa snuggled into his side. “

Jon felt like their bodies were the matching pieces of a puzzle. Only the two of them could fit together so perfectly.

“Life has not been kind to you, but you still have an open and honest heart. You are brave and hopeful. You brought me here, even though you don’t like large crowds, because you knew it would make me happy. You have more courage than I could ever hope to obtain.” Sansa rested her chin on his shoulder and stared up at him. “You are lovely.”

Jon felt his cheeks begin to blush at her praise. “Truly?”

“Truly.” Sansa confirmed. “It may have had an unexpected start, but I would love nothing more than to keep having a good date with my boyfriend at the Tulip Festival. Deal?”

Jon’s breath hitched. A slow smile crept onto his face at hearing Sansa’s refer to him as her boyfriend. His heart beat wildly in his chest at the implications. Being exclusively hers was all the wanted it, and it warmed him to her that she felt the same way.

“Deal.” He replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun(?) Fact: About two seconds after posting the chapter about the Tulip Festival, I realized that tulips only bloom in the spring! After much cursing about my error, I decided to just roll with it. This is fiction, which means tulips can be created to bloom in the fall, right? RIGHT??? 
> 
> For anyone reading my Star Wars AU, look for not one, but two chapters to be dropped at the end of this week. The chapter got a little out of hand length wise (for those reading the story I doubt it is a suprise) and had to be broken up. I hope you all enjoy it!
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading! Please comment if you like and have a wonderful day!!!


	8. Almost Perfect

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your support and patience! I hope the new chapter does not disappoint. 
> 
> General disclaimer: I am not Martin.

Almost Perfect

 

“My cookie tasted better than yours. Admit it!”

Sansa threw back her head in laughter. “Never!” She cried with a raised fist. “I will never admit defeat!”

“You used dark chocolate in yours, a bold move considering not everyone likes dark chocolate, but they were just a touch too rich when combined with the brown butter. Mine were the perfect amount of lightness and sweetness.”

“You used milk chocolate! That is like the bologna of the chocolate family!”

Jon let out a mock gasp. “How dare you insult the chocolate of my childhood!”

Sansa laughed harder as Jon’s lips formed into a classic pout. “I am not insulting anyone.” She argued. “I am simply saying—”

“You are insulting my chocolate taste buds. Admit it.” Jon pointed an accusing finger at her. “You, Sansa Stark, are a chocolate snob.”

It was Sansa’s turn to gasp. “How dare you!” Her tone suggested outrage, but the sparkle in her eye told Jon was enjoying their banter. Sansa swung their hands back and forth happily as they walked down the hallway towards her apartment. “I enjoy cheap chocolate as much as the next person—”

“Milk chocolate is hardly cheap—”

“—but in order for cookies to be elevated beyond what you can get in a box you have to use dark chocolate or semisweet at the very least.” Sansa gave him a triumphant smile as she turned the knob to her apartment. “You know I am right.”

“I think they bigger issue here is that you believe there is something wrong with boxed—”

“Fuck yes! That is ten in a row you bi—oh, Jon and Sansa and are back.” Pyp interrupted his own train of thought and gave them a happy wave. He was standing in the middle of the room with his headset on and a huge shit eating grin on his face. He was surrounded by empty energy drinks laying on the floor and his shirt was stained with chip crumbs. “Hello, ridiculously gorgeous people who could easily pass as supermodels. How was the date?”

“It was—”

“Fuck the date. I can’t believe you beat me again, you asshole.” The voice of Arya Stark fumed. Both Jon and Sansa turned their heads to see her face in a small box on the television screen. She ripped her head set off angrily and threw it to the side. “You have to be cheating.”

“Nope, no cheating.” Pyp sang out. He flipped her off before throwing himself down onto the coach happily. “I am just fucking amazing. Deal with it.”

“Tell me the truth, Bran. The fucker is cheating, isn’t he?” Arya narrowed her dark brown eyes. “If I find out you were cheating then so help me I am going to fly out there and—”

“He wasn’t cheating Arya.” Bran defended. He was sitting next to the couch with his own energy drink on the end table next to him. He looked at Pyp as if he was some sort of hero. “He’s amazing.”

Sansa folded her arms over her chest. She had a small frown on her face as she took in the small mess in her living room. “Does someone want to explain what is going on here?”

Pyp polished his fingernails on his chip-stained shirt. “Oh, nothing much. I just kicked your sister’s ass for the last three hours on _Beyond the Wall_. No big deal or anything.” He looked at Jon and gave him a small salute. “You welcome.”

“You’re welcome?” Sansa repeated with a raised eyebrow. She looked at Jon for an explanation.

Jon sighed. “Well, as you know, Arya was little… blunt, when she spoke to me earlier—”

“Which we will be talking about later.” Sansa said with a fierce scowl towards her sister.

“I make no apologies.” Arya said, mirroring the scowl Sansa was giving her. “You are a queen, and I am not going to allow some yuppie—”

“Jon is not a fucking yuppie.” Pyp growled. “He is a smart and successful young man with an unbelievable set of pouty lips that any girl would love to have on their—”

“Okay, before I wheel myself out of this room and never come back in, _I_ will tell you what happened.” Bran interrupted. He gave Sansa a small smile. “I love and support you, but I don’t ever want to know about any of that.”

Sansa let out a small cough of embarrassment. “Deal.”

Array snorted. “You know, if you can’t even say it then you aren’t—”

“We get it, Arya. Be nice or I am going to log out again.” Bran warned.

Arya narrowed her eyes. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“I would.” Bran made the same exact face Sansa and Arya had given each other a few moments ago. Jon suspected it was a Stark family trait. “Jon is a nice guy. I wouldn’t let anyone else go out with Sansa.”

Arya mulled Bran’s words over in her head in silence. Her lips formed into a tight line. “Maybe.” She finally said after several moments.

It was barely anything at all, but Jon felt like he had just received the best compliment Arya Stark would ever offer him.

“Good.” Bran returned his attention to Sansa and Jon. “Arya wanted to play _Beyond the Wall_ with us, but Pyp didn’t want her to. So, she challenged him to a one-on-one game. If she won, he would let her join in.”

“And for the record, it is not because Arya is a girl. It is because she was awful to Jon and I do not associate with people who treat my bestie that way.” Pyp hit his chest twice with a fist before pointing his hand towards Jon. “I will defend you to the gaming death.” He declared as if Jon was a damsel in distress and Pyp was his knight in shining armor.

“Whatever.” Arya said with a roll of her eyes.

She looked like she wanted to say more but Bran hurried to continue before her and Pyp could resume their shouting match. “Pyp won the first match, rather quickly I might add—”

“I hardly see how that is relevant—”

“It is incredibly fucking relevant—”

“—and Arya got pissed so she challenged him to the best two out of three, and then when Pyp won the next game, it was the best three out of five, and then so on and so forth until you guys came home.”

“You interrupted my victory dance by the way.” Pyp sulked. “You know how hard I have worked on that, Jonathon.”

Jon crossed his arms over his chest before shaking his head at his best friend in exasperation. There was a reason why Pyp kept beating Arya, a very big and important reason, and Jon was willing to bet his entire month’s salary that Pyp hadn’t said a single thing about it.

“Pyp, if you don’t tell Arya the truth, I am pretty sure she will fly our here just to murder you in your sleep.” Jon warned.  

Pyp smiled and shrugged his shoulder. “If she does then you have to promise to avenge me like I did for you the past three hours.”

“Of course.” Jon said easily. “That’s what friends are for.”

“Yes, yes, your bromance is wonderful, yada, yada, yada.” Arya leaned closer to her computer screen’s video camera. “You were cheating, weren’t you?” She insisted once more.

“Oh no.” Jon said with a slowly. “I am afraid the truth is much, much, worse.”

“Jon, if you would be so kind to do the honors.” Pyp said with a flick of his wrist. “I prefer to have others announce my greatness.” He said to Arya with a wink.

Forget flying to Pyke; Arya Stark looked like she was going to jump threw her computer screen and strangle Pyp with nothing but her will power and intense dislike for the boy lounging on her sibling’s couch to make it happen.

“The reason why Arya was not able to beat Pyp was because, and I swear I am not making this shit up, Pyp is a former professional gamer. He retired when we got into the grad program so he could he study more, which, side note, he doesn’t study, at all.”

As if they had rehearsed it, Sansa, Bran, and Arya’s mouths all simultaneously dropped open in shock.

“No. Way.” Bran gasped, finding his voice first. “That is so cool. I want to be you when I grow up.”

“Of course you do, kid.” Pyp declared while Sansa frowned at Bran’s new life aspiration. “And not only was I good, but I was ranked top 10, and my team won ELeague two years in a row.” He looked at Arya. “I am sure you can guess which game I always anchored for them.”

“ _Beyond the Wall_.” Unlike Bran, Arya looked less than impressed. “You lying piece of—”

“Hey, you never asked for my resume. You turn that accusing finger back around towards yourself.”

“Fine, but next time I pick the game.”

Pyp shrugged cockily. “It doesn’t matter which game you pick. I can assure you I have played them all.” He narrowed his eyes. “I will destroy you.”

Arya opened her mouth to retaliate but was interrupted by her commanding officer calling her away for a meeting. Muttering a curse under her breath, she said a quick goodbye to Sansa and Bran before logging of. She didn’t spare Pyp or Jon a second glance.

“How did you become a pro gamer?” Bran asked as he and Pyp began to clean up the trash on the floor. “That has to be one of the coolest jobs ever.”

“Don’t even think about it, Bran.” Sansa said. She went into the kitchen to retrieve a trash bag for them to put the empty drink cans in. “You are not getting a job playing video games for money, no offense Pyp.”

“None taken.” Pyp replied affably. “I kicked ass, but that type of high stress environment isn’t for everybody. Besides, you have to be really good to make money, and, no offense kid, you are only recreation league good.”

“Don’t worry, I don’t want to be one.” Bran assured both Pyp and Sansa. He took the trash bag from her held it out for Pyp to put the containers in. “I just think its super cool. I have never met a professional gamer before.”

“It was cool, but alas, all cool jobs have to come to an end as we inevitably submit ourselves to the man.” Pyp sighed dramatically. “Its nothing but 9 AM jobs and suits and ties from here on out.”

Jon snorted. “You only went pro because the one sister you don’t like told you that you would never be able to have a job because you were too immature.”

“Really?” Bran asked.

Pyp nodded sagely. “It’s true. Merry is fucking awful, so naturally I had to show her that I could make way more money than she could ever dream of.” He pumped his fist. “I sure showed her, and you can bet your sweet ass I make sure to remind her of that at every family gathering.”

Jon followed Sansa back into the kitchen to as Pyp began to regale Bran with stories of his time as a pro gamer. He helped take out the empty containers from their lunch but stopped her before she could put them into the dishwasher.

“It’s my turn.” He told her as he stepped between her and sink. “You made lunch, which was delicious, so it is only right for me to do the dishes.”

Sansa bit her lip as her cheeks turned a light pink. “But you did make cookies.”

“That according to you were subpar at best.” Jon gave her a teasing smile. “Chocolate snob.”

Sansa giggled. “Maybe just a little.” She finally agreed. “But, honestly, if you had used anything but milk chocolate—”

Jon held his hands up in surrender. “All right, all right, I yield. Nothing but white chocolate from now on.”

“That is even worse.” Sansa scoffed. She gave placed her hands on her hips. “It’s almost like you want me to punish you.”

A sudden, unbidden and very distinct image came to Jon’s mind before he could stop himself.  Sansa was looming over him with her long legs in a crisp white blouse whose buttons may or may not have been—they were—open enough, giving Jon a mouth-watering view or her perfect breasts encased in a black lacey bra.

“Jon?”

Jon blinked a few times to rid himself of his fantasy. The air around them had moved from playful banter, to thick and heady sexual tension, to awkward glances, all within a matter of seconds.

“I—that’s not—well, what I meant to say was….” Sansa’s cheeks and neck turned as bright as her hair. She began to rub her arm up and down and looked everywhere but him.

 “I didn’t think that you meant to say, or not say, anything at all.” Jon cleared his throat. It felt very dry and he was desperate for a glass of water. “Please don’t hate me.” He said, his voice somewhere between a plea for her to understand him and self-loathing for the images that had come to his mind.

 “I don’t!” Sansa shook her head quickly to reassure him, her hair swishing with the movement.  “I really like you, but I don’t think I am ready for any of that stuff. Not because I haven’t done anything with a guy before because I have had sex and I can even say the word but I haven’t been with a lot of guys and it really doesn’t matter if you have been with a lot of girls or no girls though I assume you have been with at least one since you were engaged and I swear I wouldn’t judge you either way but it has been a while for me and while I am very physically attracted and would love to have sex with you because something tells me it will be amazing I don’t want to rush into anything physical not because I am a prude but because I am pretty sure I am fall—oh. My. Gods.” Sansa buried her face in her hands and groaned. Her entire body was flushed red now, reminding Jon of a tomato. “Seven save me from myself. Or send me a sword I can throw myself on.”

Jon smiled. He couldn’t help but find Sansa adorable at that very moment with her skin matching her hair color and her knees shaking slightly for mortification. Reaching for her wrists, he gently brought them away from her face before placing them on top of his heart.

“I feel the same way.” He told her gently. “I would love to have everything with you, but I am not ready either.”

“Really?”

“Really.” Jon confirmed. “And I would never judge you or base my desire for you off what kind of experience you have with other guys. It doesn’t matter to me. Our relationship is our own.”

“It doesn’t matter to me who you have been with or what you have done either.” Sansa told him as well. “I like you for you, and not all that other stuff.”

Jon bumped his nose against her own. “When we are ready to take the next step, we will, but we have only been officially dating for a few hours. It’s okay if we don’t have sex, or even make it to second base, at this very moment.”

“I know.” Sansa gave him a look of mock indignation, her earlier embarrassment gone the longer they held each other. “Maybe I was just trying to be prepared.” She teased.

“You prepare yourself for sex by rambling about your history to your new boyfriend?”

“Only when my new boyfriend puts milk chocolate in the cookies.”

Jon placed his head against hers. “I am never living that down, am I?”

“Nope.” Sansa said. Her eyes dipped down to his lips before fluttering closed. “You aren’t.”

Jon felt his heart rate speed up and Sansa’s cute pink tongue wetted her lips. He cupped her cheeks before leaning in to meet her. She smelled like lemons and—

“Hey Jon, did you and Sansa want to—oh fucking hell!”

Jon turned his head in time just to see Pyp’s hands fly up to cover his eyes as if he were a child and not a grown adult, who, Jon knew for a fact, occasionally watched things that Jon would never watch in the presence of female company. The bag that held the empty cans went flying, causing a few to scatter along the kitchen floor.

“I didn’t fucking see anything!” Pyp screeched.

Jon tsk’d in frustration. It was the second time Pyp has interrupted him and Sansa trying to kiss that day, and he was beginning to wonder if he could take his friend anywhere.

Even though it wasn’t time yet, when he and Sansa decided to have sex, Jon was going to make sure Pyp was in a completely different time zone.

“It’s okay.” Sansa assured him though she looked just as disappointed as Jon felt. “Did you need something?”

Pyp bent down to pick up the cans once more. “Since it is still early, Bran and I were wondering if you two wanted to play Super Drogo Go Cart.”

Sansa’s eyes lit up, all traces of disappointment gone. “I love that game! My siblings and I all used to play together all the time as children. Do you have it?”

Pyp nodded. He threw away the cans before heading up to his and Jon’s apartment to retrieve the game. Sansa inched herself closer to Jon as soon as they heard the door click to the apartment. She curled her arms around his neck and looked at his lips. Jon felt the same spark of sexual tension that had been present moments ago. They may have decided to take things at their own place, but Sansa definitely wanted Jon to kiss her, and who was he to oppose?

“Where were we?” She whispered as she pressed her body against his.

Jon smirked. “I believe we were—”

“Sans! Theon just texted! He wants to know if he can come over and hang out. He’ll grab us some pizza on the way over!”

Both Sansa and Jon let out an audible groan at being interrupted yet again, this time by Bran and to a lesser extent, Theon. Disentangling herself from Jon, Sansa gave him an apologetic smile before going into the living room and telling Bran to plan on two extra people for the pizza.

Jon tugged the end of his hair in frustration. He walked over to the sink to take out his pent up energy on the dirty dishes in the sink.

They had only been officially dating for less than a day, but why is was it so damn hard to make-out?

XXXXXX

“Ugh.” Pyp threw himself onto their couch and heaved a dramatic sigh. “I’m beat.”

Jon rolled his eyes. He toed off his shoes before placing his messenger bag on the hook next to the door. There was a second one for Pyp’s bag as well, but Pyp was a slob, and never used it.

“All you did today was play video games.” Jon pointed out. “Nice job on Drogo Cart, by the way.” He muttered sarcastically. He took the empty container of cookies out of his bag—Theon had declared his to be the best after they finished their pizza and Sansa demanded they each try one and give them their opinion, but everyone else had voted for Sansa—and placed it in sink. “You couldn’t let just one person win?”

“Jon, Jon, Jonny Jon Jon Jon. If I half-ass it and let somebody else win, their victory is fucking hollow. People want to beat me at my fucking best, not at my fucking worst.” Pyp said philosophically. He pushed himself up into a seated position to make way for Jon to sit on the couch next to him. “Still up for Aegon Targaryen, Part II tonight?”

Jon nodded his head. Though it was tough to remember Part I of the franchise since he and Pyp were more than a little drunk while watching it on Friday, it had been a damn good movie, and they both wanted to finished the second one before Part III came out in two weeks.

“No shots this time. In fact, no drinking of any kind. I actually want to remember what I am seeing this time.” Jon rubbed his stomach. “Besides, I am stuffed. Between the lunch Sansa made and all the pizza Theon brought over, I don’t think I my stomach can fit anything else.”

“I could go for some ice cream.”

Jon looked at Theon incredulously.

“What? It fills in the gaps!” He argued. “Besides, I didn’t have any of this amazing cooking you have been raving about. Bran and I hate to eat like men by consuming energy drinks.”

Jon went to change into his sweats while Pyp readied their movie. When he came out of the room, he was unsurprised to find Pyp wearing nothing but his boxers and holding a bowl of ice cream. Despite his earlier declaration, Pyp offered him some, but Jon declined; he really couldn’t eat or drink anything else.

The movie started. Jon tried his best, but despite Aemon Targaryen Part II being just as riveting as Part I—the action sequences were choreographed to perfection and the dialogue was delivered with just the perfect amount of dry wit—Jon found his thoughts constantly returning to Sansa and their date.

Everything about their afternoon together had been perfect. Even the small hiccup when running into Margaery and Theon hadn’t been enough to dim the afternoon. Sansa had regained her cheerful mood after their conversation about forgiveness fairly quickly, and it helped that neither he nor Sansa had run into them again. In truth Jon suspected Theon had something to do with that. Though he was a bit of a tool, Theon seemed like a decent enough guy. It was obvious after hanging out with him tonight that he loved Sansa and Bran and did his best to take care of them as much as they would allow. When Sansa had tried to pay him for the pizza, he had waved it away, telling her next time was on him. Bran had whispered to him that with Theon there would never be a next time; he always came with food or groceries that he swore he would never eat, and would never let them pay him back, insisting that family took care of one another. Jon resolved after that to try and get to know him better.

Jon’s mind returned to the rest of their date. After their viewing of the sculpture gardens they had taken a break for lunch. A stage had been placed on a grassy field in the middle of the gardens, and a live band was playing slower versions of current pop songs and some older rock numbers for entertainment. Sansa had hummed along with the music in between bites of their sandwiches and homemade chips. If her humming was anything to go, Sansa likely possessed a lovely singing voice. Jon had tried to get her to sing a few notes for him, but she had declined, saying that she would sing for him someday when her throat wasn’t coated with food and they weren’t surrounded by dozens of people. Jon found himself looking forward to the occasion.

Once their lunch was finished Jon had found himself being spontaneous once more by taking Sansa’s hand and asking her to dance. Unlike singing for him, Sansa had readily agreed. He walked her closer to the stage were couples of all ages were swaying to the music. He held her hips delicately at first. He was afraid that he would seem like a bit of a green boy if he gripped her too tightly, but with each step—and with Sansa’s hands playing with the curls at the nape of his neck—Jon found himself bringing her closer to him. She rested her head on his shoulder and Jon swore his heart stuttered. Her body felt like it was made to fit perfectly with his own.

“Stop that.” Pyp muttered next to him, brining Jon out of his thoughts. “It’s gross.”

“Huh?”

Pyp gestured to Jon’s face. “I can’t enjoy the violence and gratuitous death count while you are smiling like a fucking idiot over Sansa. Some of us are single you know. Have some respect for the less privileged.”

“Sorry.” Jon muttered sheepishly.

“It’s okay.” Pyp bumped Jon on the shoulder. “I’m happy you are happy.” He said sincerely. “I don’t think I have ever seen you smile so much since I have known you, and that includes with Ygritte.”

The room returned to silence as Pyp focused on the movie once more while Jon reflected on his statement. He analyzed his behavior over the last few weeks to see if what Pyp had said was true. Jon had always been a bit somber and prone to brooding ever since he was a child, but being in Sansa’s presence had begun to change that. She was so bright in his otherwise dull world. When she had come to him on Friday to tell him she would go out with him, he was shocked to discover that she carried so much hurt within her.  When they were together, she always laughing and chatting happily about her day or bragging about Bran or Arya’s latest achievements. Jon supposed it was only a matter of time before her brightness began to seep into him. Already with Sansa he was doing things and feelings things he had never felt before. He was becoming different; he was more prone to laughter, more spontaneous, he spoke more often, he felt like he had less of the weight of the world on his shoulders; he was still Jon, but he felt like Sansa was bringing out the good parts of him, the parts only his mother, Pyp, and a few other people ever saw. The only difference was instead of only showing that side of himself to a select few, he felt like he was beginning to show it to everyone.

Jon’s smile quickly turned to a frown.

The date had been perfect, except for one glaring problem.

“Hey Pyp?”

“Yeah?” He said through a mouthful of popcorn. Jon had been so engrossed in his own thoughts he hadn’t even realized Pyp had gotten himself a bowl.

“Would you think I was a creep if you were Sansa and I showed up at your door just to make out with you?”

“I’m not even going to fucking dignify that with a fucking response.” He threw a handful of popcorn at Jon. “Get the fuck out of here. I’ll pause the movie.”

XXXXXX

It felt like déjà vu as Jon knocked on Sansa and Bran’s apartment door. Granted, it was only nine o’clock, and he wasn’t panting nearly as hard as Sansa was, but he was hoping for the same end result.

Jon’s stomach dropped as Bran opened the door. He resisted the urge to hang his head in shame as Bran looked at him with brown eyes that seemed to read every single one of Jon’s thoughts.

“She’s in her bedroom reading.” Bran said after a few moments. He opened the door wider for Jon to enter. “I meant what I said earlier. You’re a good guy, Jon. I’m cheering for you.” He shut the door and wheeled himself over to the hallway. “Sansa’s room is the second door on the right. I’ll be in the kitchen, writing my paper, with my headphones on, if you need anything.”

Jon walked to Sansa’s door before he could chicken out and run back to his apartment. He was going to kiss Sansa, for hopefully longer than a few seconds, and nothing was going to stop him. Well, that wasn’t completely true. If Sansa didn’t want to kiss him then he certainly wasn’t going to force her, but he was fairly certain she did, and that thought alone gave him enough courage to knock on her door.

“Door’s open, Bran.” Her soft voice called out.

Jon slowly opened the door to her room with a shaky hand. Sansa was sitting on her bed along the far wall, a blanket covering her chest as she laid curled up on her side, book in hand. Her hair was in a messy bun.

“Sansa?” Jon winced as his voice broke without his permission.

“Jon?!” Sansa gasped. She sat up, her book forgotten. She was wearing a large cotton shirt that fell off one shoulder. “Is everything okay?”

Jon laughed lightly. It really was like Friday night all over again.

“Our date was perfect.” He said. He took a step towards her.

Sansa beamed at him. “It was.” She confirmed. “I had a lovely time.”

“Me too.” Jon licked his lips. “But, I hated the end.”

“The end?” Sansa’s eyebrows knitted together. “What do you—”

Sansa’s voice cut off as Jon closed the distance between them in two long strides. He knelt in front of her, placing his hand at the back of her neck, silently asking her for permission. Her eyes widened. Without another word passing between them, Sansa leaned over her bed and crashed her lips against Jon’s.

Their kiss on Friday had been sweet, and pure; something that was shared between two souls who had been through so much and who were trusting their hearts to each other.

Their kiss now, tonight, was completely different.

Jon tumbled onto Sansa’s bed as she pulled him closer by his shirt. He licked at her lips, desperate to feel her tongue against his own. Sansa opened her mouth eagerly. Their tongues met halfway, causing Jon to grow lightheaded. She had just brushed her teeth, and she tasted like the mints Jon would suck on during winter time while living in the North.

Running her hands through his curls, Sansa pulled his lips away from her own before directing him towards her neck. She held him in place firmly as Jon began to nip and suck on her pale skin. She moaned underneath him in pleasure. Jon positioned himself until he was firmly on top of her and no longer angled off to the side. Sansa rubbed her arms down his back before shifting her leg to lay in between his own.

Jon’s lips left her neck with a small sucking sound as Sansa rubbed her thigh against his groin. He panted into her hair as she did it once more, finding a rhythm that made Jon’s cock weep with appreciation. It felt like a dam had burst between them. All the attraction and tension was finally being let free, and they were each exulting in being able to express what they had desired all day.

Jon’s hips bucked into Sansa’s leg as she moved along his cock. She licked at the skin of his ear, her breath causing his already warm skin to flush. His lips found her own once more. He sucked on her bottom lip before diving into her mouth, their tongues dancing with each other to a rhythm only they understood.

Jon felt his balls beginning to tighten as Sansa continued to stroke him. He squeezed his eyes shut in response to the sensations his cock was feeling and Sansa’s lips beginning to trail hot, opened mouth kisses down his neck. He willed himself to think of anything else but how he could feel Sansa’s nipples through her thin shirt. He didn’t want to stop, but he knew he should after their earlier conversation, and his mind scrambled for a solution on how to end what was happening between them before he spilled into his pants.

With shaky hands, Jon ran his fingers slowly and gently through Sansa’s hair. She responded with a sweet sigh and her kisses became more tender along his jaw as she worked her way back towards his mouth. Their pace slowed to match the movements of his hands gliding through her hair. He carefully rolled to his side, his body instantly feeling cold as they no longer laid flush against each other. Jon felt his cock twitch in anger, but his heart demanded they respect Sansa’s desire to wait before things escalated between them, reasoning that him masturbating during their first time making out would probably fall into the category of too much too soon.

Their kissing came to a slow and natural end. Sansa smiled into his mouth on their last kiss. She placed her head onto his shoulder and melted into him.

“I’m glad you came back.” She whispered, not wanting to break the calm that had settled over them.  

Jon kissed her forehead. “Me too.” He whispered back.

“Stay for a bit longer?”

“Always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun (?) fact: Every time I thought of when Jon and Sansa would finally be able to kiss without problems, I always pictured Shawn and Juliet's first kiss from Psych, where they go totally crazy because of all the years of will they/won't they tension. While Jon and Sansa weren't that bad, I felt like it would be fun to do. 
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading! Hit me up a comment to let me know what you think and have a great day!

**Author's Note:**

> Fun (?) fact: I was engaged, and how Ygritte broke up with Jon is how my fiancee broke up with me. While I don't share Jon's personality, he told me that I would never make a good wife, I was immature, selfish, he made a huge mistake asking me to marry him, he liked the idea of marriage which is why he did it, and that no one would ever love me if I didn't make changes to my personality, which he was telling me because he wanted to help me. Jon talking to himself in the mirror is something I did for months. Sometimes I would cry, and sometimes I would laugh at how absured it was, but one day I realized I didn't have to do it anymore because I believed everything I was saying. I was a good person, and I loved myself, and someday someone would love me for who I was. 
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks for reading my friends!
> 
> Please comment if you like and had a fab day!


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